


Epicinium (on hold)

by riyalisation



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, F/F, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Melancholy, Memories, Multi, POV Draco Malfoy, Past Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Pining, Pining Draco Malfoy, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-12-22 02:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11957871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riyalisation/pseuds/riyalisation
Summary: The Dark Lord had been defeated, and all was well once again. But while most people around the world slowly fell back into routine, there were those who struggled to get past the horrors that the war had brought upon them. So, when futile attempts were made to try and find comfort, they resulted in some unlikely companionships.(Draco Malfoy/Female Harry Potter)





	1. genesis

Draco Lucius Malfoy still remembered the first time he'd laid eyes on Rose Lily Potter.

It was on August 1, 1991, in Madam Malkin's shop, Diagon Alley, that he'd first seen her pale face and scrawny figure. She'd been stood next to him, looking around the room with wide, curious eyes.

"Hello. Hogwarts, too?" was the first thing he'd said to her.

He was nervous and excited at the prospect of making friends for the first time in his life. Having been confined within the walls and comfort of the Malfoy Manor practically his entire life, he had hardly had any exposure to the outside world. The only kids his own age that he'd ever met were children of his parents' friends, who were all, much like him, from other overprivileged families. So Draco was thrilled to finally meet someone outside his father's usual circle of friends.

However, from the moment that Rose Potter had met him, she'd seemed less than interested in talking to him. But Draco hadn't let it discourage him. He'd tried to make conversation with her even when he didn't know who she really was. He'd wanted to be her friend, but she didn't.

When he did finally find out her real identity on the Hogwarts Express, he noticed she'd already made a new friend. Said friend also happened to be just the kind of person his father had told him to stay away from - a Weasley. Draco tried once again to gain her companionship, but she had blatantly rejected him once more, interpreting his warning as a threat.

That was the day Draco Malfoy decided that if Rose Potter didn't want him as her friend, she'd have him as her enemy.

And so he spent their coming years at Hogwarts making her life as difficult as he possibly could. More difficult than he knew it already was.

That year, he tried to set her and Weasley up by challenging them to a duel and then giving their location away to Filch. When that didn't work, he got her and Granger detention by ratting them out to McGonagall, which backfired, because he somehow landed himself in detention too.

He still remembered that night in the Forbidden Forest, Potter and him (and the stupid dog) had ventured into the dark forest for hours in complete silence. How, when they had come across that hooded figure, she had told him to run and get help and stood to shield him and Fang from the figure. And more embarrassingly, he remembered how he had run away in fear without another thought, leaving her behind in danger. He had spent nights wondering if she thought he was as much of a coward as the dog, especially when compared to the fight she had put up.

He remembered watching her play her first match against Slytherin, being impressed by her flying skills but covering it up by booing every time her team scored. He was torn between worrying about Potter falling off her malfunctioning broom and hoping her broom would keep jerking so his house team could get the snitch before her.

The end of the year had been slightly disappointing; Slytherin had lost the House Cup to Gryffindor. All thanks to Potter and her stupid friends, for saving the Philosopher's Stone and facing You-Know-Who. How quintessentially Gryffindor of them.

Among all the celebrations, he had caught Potter's eye and glared at her, to which she had grinned smugly and then gone back to hugging Granger, who was sobbing with joy.

Second year had been no different. Potter and Weasley had, once again, broken school rules the first chance that they'd gotten. They flew a car to school!

And then the attacks had begun. Draco went around telling people how he was glad the Muggle-borns were being killed off; not really believing it himself, but still preaching. That was what was expected of him. His father always said to him that they didn't deserve the same treatment as purebloods, and Draco had once come very close to actually believing it. Potter had been extremely angry with him, which had lead to them having a very heated argument in the Great Hall that had lasted a little too long and had ended with her calling him a "Patchwork pigeon brain!" and leaving with a huff.

Draco had also, thanks to his father, been selected as the Slytherin Seeker. He remembered Potter's face when he'd first revealed it to her; she had been surprised, but it had soon been turned into one of confusion and disdain when he'd insulted Granger. She'd looked anything but impressed.

His first game against Gryffindor was as memorable as it was painful to remember. They'd lost, but Potter had been followed by a jinxed bludger throughout the game, making her prance around on her broom like a ballerina. It had been fun to watch until it had hit her. But even through that, she had somehow managed to catch the snitch from behind Draco's ear.

At some point during the term, the entire school, except the Weasleys and Granger, had turned on Potter. It had to be the incident with the snake that had led everyone to believe that she was the Heir of Slytherin. As if! Potter was the last person Draco thought would do something so horrible, she was too sickeningly nice for that. Her knack for speaking parseltongue had to be a coincidence, or a mistake.

He remembered watching her approaching the group of Hufflepuffs in the library, and then hiding behind a shelf and listening to all the ghastly things Ernie Macmillan was saying about her. She'd wiped her eyes, said something to the group of them and then stormed away from the room, leaving them stunned. Draco himself had never seen her get so worked up about anything, not even his lame insults. He knew it was all really affecting her.

So Draco had gone up to the stupid Hufflepuffs, who seemed a little afraid at the sight of him approaching them

"M-Malfoy?" Macmillian had stuttered.

"I'm just going to get to the point here, Macmillian," he'd said in a voice that he hoped was scary. "If I hear you speak another ill word about Potter, I will make sure you're in the Hospital Wing for at least a month!"

"W-what?"

"I think I spoke rather clearly."

"But she'd horrible to you too," he said, "I thought you hated her! You both fight all the time!"

"That's different," Draco had said. He wasn't sure how it was different, but it just was to him.

Macmillian had become considerably less criticizing of Potter in the next few days, so Draco didn't have to work on his empty threat.

Draco had sent Potter a Valentine that year, after having convinced himself that he was only doing it because she'd been upset. Although from her reaction to his little, heartfelt poem, he wasn't sure how much he had actually helped. He could tell she hadn't particularly liked her eyes being compared to toads and cursed himself for his poor choice of words.

Luckily, by the end of the year, any doubts anyone had about Potter had been cleared. She was, once again, the heroine they had all dreamed her to be. She'd found the location of the Chamber of Secrets, gone there and taken down the Basilisk single-handedly, thus rescuing Ginny Weasley. Not many people knew the details, but Draco's father had later told him that Weasley had been possessed by You-Know-Who, and Potter had, once again, defeated the dark wizard that everyone feared.

But the thing that had impressed him the most was that Potter and Weasley had somehow managed to get Gilderoy Lockhart to completely lose his memory. Draco secretly respected them for that.

In the third year, while Potter remained the same idiot that she was, her appearance had changed drastically. She was no longer a small and scrawny little girl with deathly pale skin. She stood tall now, her once messy black hair was a little tamer, her skin looked healthier and her already astonishing green eyes somehow looked more stunning behind her glasses. Even her school skirt had gotten a few inches shorter, which (much to Draco's irritation) did not go unnoticed by his best friend.

"Look at that, will you?" Blaise Zabini had whistled, "Rose Potter got hot this year."

That had earned him a slap on the back of his head from Draco.

However, Draco himself had discreetly stared at her for a few minutes in the Great Hall, before he had begun teasing her about getting attacked by dementors once again.

When their classes had started, Potter had somehow managed to have everyone talking about her on the first day itself. Draco had heard a group of Ravenclaws in his History of Magic class talking about how Professor Trelawney had predicted Potter's death. Draco had gulped silently and mentally convinced himself that Divination was a bunch of bogus and that Potter wasn't going to die. But his father had told him that Sirius Black, the man responsible for Potter's parents' death, out of Azkaban to get her.

Was it possible that...? Oh no. He would never get to her while she was under the care of the teachers at Hogwarts, right? Potter couldn't die. Who else would Draco spend hours teasing and tormenting about their freakish looking scar? Or their wild hair? Or their funny glasses? Or their breathtaking eyes?

He had a class with her later that week, where he had managed to fit in a few ill jokes about dementors before class started. She had rolled her eyes and sneered the usual, "Shut up, you Cabbagehead!" Then that oaf friend of hers, Hagrid, had bought out his chicken and Potter rode on it's back, making everyone gush about her. Wanting to prove himself, Draco had insulted the chicken and ended up getting scratched. But out of spite (and now that he thought about it, it was also the need for Potter to pay attention to him and be worried about him), he pretended to have been seriously injured.

The Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff game had been, once again, an unforgettable one (no surprise there). Potter had been attacked by dementors mid game, resulting in her falling off her broom, only to be saved by the Headmaster. Draco would be lying if he said his heart hadn't stopped beating in that instant, as he'd watched her falling 50 feet down towards the ground.

Then there had been that entire fiasco about Hagrid's chicken. Draco had written to his mother about it, and somehow, his father had come to know. He had called the hippogriff to be put on trial, not paying any heed to Draco's protests. He'd been filled with dread at the realisation that Potter was going to hate him more than she already did when she found out about this.

A few days later, he remembered having given into his friends' demands and tried to scare Potter while she played a game against Ravenclaw, by dressing up as Dementors. What he hadn't expected was for her to be prepared and conjure a full-grown Patronus at him. They'd been caught, of course, and the look of disdain in Potter's eyes as she had looked at him from across the field had haunted him for days.

"Hey, Potter," Draco called with urgency a few days later, when he'd caught her alone in a corridor. "About what happened during the Quidditch match-"

"Save it, you arrogant toerag. I don't want to hear what you've got to say," she'd sneered, and then added, "But while we're at it, I hope you're happy with yourself, Malfoy."

And then she'd walked away, leaving him feeling like an utter piece of garbage. He knew what she'd been talking about - the hippogriff's death sentence.

Potter had silently watched as Granger slapped him a few days later, even looking a little satisfied. He had run away, cheeks burning in humiliation.

The rest of the year was a blur of studying, bullying first-year Hufflepuffs and receiving angry looks from Potter. At the end of the term, his father had written to him an angry note about how the hippogriff had disappeared and hence, couldn't be executed. He had also mentioned that Sirius Black had managed to escape the authorities once more.

And the next day, Potter had turned up to the Great Hall with scratches and bruises all over her body, followed by a stern looking Granger. It didn't take Draco too long to figure out who had freed the chicken and the mass murderer (although at that time he had no clue why Potter would free the man that had gotten her parents killed).

He'd seen her sooner than he'd expected that summer. She'd been at the Quidditch World Cup that year with the Weasleys, looking as cheerful as she always did. Her eyes had darted around the colourful, busy stadium, taking in everything they could. Draco had stared at the pleasantly stunned look on her face and his insides had melted at the sight.

But then his father had gone and ruined her day by threatening her.

He'd found her in the forest later, with her two compadres, looking frantic and scared. He'd insulted her friend (Surprise, surprise!) and warned them about the Death Eaters. She once again, rightfully so, took his warning as a threat before running away.

The Fourth year was one year he wished he hadn't heard from Potter. He had known about the Triwizard Tournament, and he did not want her anywhere near it.

But of course, she ended up right in the middle of it. She was the fourth champion in a deathly tournament, with competitors much older and much skilled than her.

The day after her selection, Potter was once again shunned by the entire school just like she had been in seconds year. Unlike the second year, Weasley (who was supposed to be her best friend) had refused to believe her.

Just like in the second year, Draco didn't believe she had done it. If any of the idiots doubting her had paid any close attention to her over the years, they'd have noticed that Rose Potter didn't hate anything as much as she hated attention. All she wanted was a quiet year at school.

Draco, being the inconsiderate idiot that he'd been at the time, had chosen that exact time to get revenge on Potter for humiliating him by having him turned into a ferret by the mad professor. He had made, and passed along, badges that alternately flashed the phrases "Support Cedric Diggory -- The Real Hogwarts Champion" in luminous red letters and "Potter Stinks" in glowing green letters. He'd thought it was a harmless joke, similar to the many he'd made over the years. 

When she'd walked into the Great Hall for dinner, Draco had taken a look at her face and immediately realised what he'd done wasn't as harmless as he'd initially thought. She was obviously still recovering from Rita Skeeter's disastrous interview and his joke had just ruined whatever grasp she'd gotten on herself. She had quietly left the hall, skipping the second meal of the day.

And he knew Potter was religious about food, never skipping a meal if she could help it.

Draco hadn't been able to eat that night either.

The next morning, however, the entire school had watched in shock as Rose Potter had entered the Hall looking uncharacteristically hostile and sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Neville Longbottom. One of Draco's badges was pinned to her robes, alternately flashing the words 'Potter Stinks' and 'Support Cedric Diggory'.

Draco wanted to bury himself deep into the ground as he watched her silently eat, not even acknowledging Longbottom who was gawking at her.

That evening, the entire school had been even more stunned (if that was even possible) when the original Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory, had walked into the Great Hall for dinner, wearing a scarlet badge over his left breast that flashed the words "I support Rose Potter".

Draco had bitterly stared at the warm look on her face as she'd smiled at Diggory.

However, both of their little acts hadn't been enough to convince the rest of the school that Potter was innocent. What did convince them, however, was her almost getting killed by a Hungarian Horntail (Draco had squealed when she had turned up alive on her broomstick, much to Zabini's amusement). 

That seemed to have done the trick for Weasley too because by the end of the day, Rose Potter and Ronald Weasley were back together, whispering and snickering every chance they got.

When the Yule Ball was announced, Draco had to watch all the girls in his house talk in hushed whispers and smile and point at the boy they wanted to go with. Draco saw Pansy Parkinson wink at him during dinner one night, and he decided to just ask her and get this thing over with.

For the next few days leading up to the Ball, he watched from afar as numerous boys approached Potter and asked her to the ball. But she rejected each and every one of them, earning her a stern look from Granger every time a boy walked away from them dejectedly.

Draco figured she either didn't have a date and was waiting for someone, or she did have a date and Granger just didn't approve of whoever it was.

On the evening of the Yule Ball, when Rose Potter (who had ditched her glasses and tamed her hair to make it look sleek) had walked into the Great Hall on the arm of Cedric Diggory, looking breathtaking in a green dress, Draco realised it had to be the former. Anyone would approve of Cedric Diggory; he was a kind Hufflepuff with excellent grades, attractive physical attributes and was now a Triwizard Champion. And while Draco had been busy acting like a complete git towards her, Diggory had come in and saved the day.

Potter just had to go for someone who was the complete opposite of him, didn't she?

However, as he stood in the crowd watching her dancing with Diggory with a stupid grin on her face, he realised his joke (which in hindsight seemed pretty lame) was probably the reason Potter even went for Diggory in the first place. He'd always known this was bound to happen someday, he just hadn't anticipated how much it would hurt.

And then later that evening, he'd seen her snogging Diggory under a mistletoe in a dark corridor. He'd gone to bed early that night, much to Pansy Parkinson's disappointment. But Draco didn't care, he knew she'd easily find someone else to dance with.

That was the night he realised the true extent of his feelings for saint Potter, and the fact that there was a chance she'd never reciprocate them. To her, Draco Malfoy would always be the boy who tried to make her years at Hogwarts a mess. He'd always be her rival.

The second task had come around quickly, and when Potter had resurfaced after one hour and another extra five minutes, which Draco had spent anxiously biting his fingernails, he had left. He didn't want to see her and Diggory's celebratory snog.

The next few months leading up to the third task had turned out to be a drag, and when it did come around, Draco started feeling dreadful. He saw Potter each day, looking paler and more shifty, the third task no doubt having a toll on her. The day before the task, Draco contemplated wishing her luck but settled on writing a short note.

After much thinking, he ended up writing only two words. 'Don't Die.'

That was all he ever wanted from her - to stay alive.

And she did. After hours of excruciating silence and no sign of Rose Potter and Cedric Diggory, the two of them had just turned up outside the maze out of thin air. At first, Draco had closed his eyes and muttered a small thanks to whoever was responsible for bringing her back safely, but then he had heard a loud scream, which was followed by, "Diggory's dead!"

His eyes had snapped open to see the scene in front of him. Her figure was leaned over Diggory's on the ground, both of whom were now surrounded by teachers and officials. Draco hadn't been able to make out what was happening; there was too much commotion, shouting, screaming and pushing happening in the crowd as they were made to empty the stands and return to their dormitories. Draco kept turning around to try and catch a glimpse of her, but his view was obscured by the crowd.

He couldn't sleep that night - he doubted anyone had been able to sleep that night. He wondered how she was keeping up. Was she alright? Had she been hurt too?

He didn't see her again until a few days later at the final dinner in the Great Hall. She looked lifeless as she sat between Weasley and Granger, both of whom were giving her concerned looks every few seconds. And everyone understood why that was because by the time Dumbledore's speech was over, Potter's face was buried in Granger's shoulder, her entire body violently shaking with silent sobs.

She had witnessed the man who had killed her parents kill Cedric Diggory.

Draco saw her on the train the next day but didn't dare say anything to her in front of his parents. She talked to the Weasleys, and then walked away from her relatives, all the while maintaining a very un-Potterlike stony expression.

Draco was almost scared of what was to come.

And rightfully so, because over the next few months, the newspapers were writing all sorts of lies about Potter and Albus Dumbledore, discrediting and demeaning both of them. He knew Potter was telling the truth, his father was missing from the Manor most of the days throughout the summer, and he'd heard him talk about Potter with his mother. He wasn't stupid, he knew what that meant. He knew what was probably coming.

Luckily, Potter had managed to not get suspended from the school, and he saw her on the train on their first day back. He was disappointed to see that it was Granger, and not Potter, that had become the Gryffindor Prefect. But then maybe it was better for her to lie low that year. As he'd expected, their classmates had once again concluded that Potter was a liar.

And then there was Umbridge, who had taken an instant dislike to Potter. When Draco heard what Umbridge was making her do during her detentions, he caught her after a potions lesson, when Granger and Weasley had left for prefect duty.

"What?" she had snapped in irritation. The look in her eyes had been alien; it had been distant and full of anger as if she hadn't been herself in that moment.

"Don't underestimate her - Umbridge," Draco had warned, regardless. "She has more power than you think. Don't go around having arguments with her. For once, shut your mouth before it get's you in trouble."

"What do you want me to do then?" Potter had hissed with a look of hatred that haunted Draco for days. "Not speak the truth? Because I think we both know what's the truth here."

"I don't know that you're telling the truth," Draco had lied, defensively.

"I didn't want to tell you this, but you even talking to me right now is tempting me," she'd said with a humourless smile, "That night in the graveyard, I saw your father. He was right there in his Death Eater costume, watching as his beloved Master attempted to kill me. He was sucking it up to Voldemort just like you're sucking it up to Umbridge right now. Guess I know where you get it from now - all this cowardice. But you already knew that, didn't you? Your father must have told you all about his Death Eater adventures with his Death Eater pals."

"Don't you dare talk about my father like that," Draco had snapped.

"I can talk about him however I please. He is a terrible person, and you worshipping him tells me a lot about you too," she had said and then taking a deep breath, she had continued a little more calmly, "I want to make one thing clear here, I am not like you, Malfoy. I never will be. So don't come after me trying to warn me about something because you pity me or feel guilty about what your father does. I'm not afraid of the consequences of my actions. I stand up for what I believe is right, and if that means being tortured by Umbridge, then so be it. I understand that you're coming from a good place, but will do what I have to, and you can do what your father tells you to."

And she'd walked away from him like she always did after every argument. However, unlike every other time, she hadn't called him a Boulderhead or a Pigeon brain or a Dung beetle or something equally ludicrous. That was enough for him to know that something had shifted; something had changed. This wasn't their usual banter, this was more real. And Draco hated it.

Draco had been forced to join the Inquisitorial Squad a few days later. He had unknowingly helped catch Potter in the act of presiding over a meeting of what seemed to be an underground secret group. She hadn't looked too surprised when she'd seen him, she looked almost disappointed. Umbridge had dragged her away to the Headmaster's office, her fingers digging into Potter's scarred arm. Draco had no idea what had happened inside, but a few hours later, news had spread that Albus Dumbledore had resigned.

The next few days had gone by painfully slowly. Potter had even stopped responding to his taunts, and refused to acknowledge him altogether.

She was finally forced to acknowledge him when she was strapped to a chair in Umbridge's office though, as he had been standing right across her while holding Longbottom hostage.

Her face had been blank as she'd stared at the wall, not giving away any information she had about anything. And then Umbridge had slapped her. Clenching his jaw, Draco resisted his urge to hex Umbridge into oblivion, or at least shake Potter by her shoulders and beg her to just give the evil witch whatever information it was that she wanted.

When Snape had come in, Draco had felt a spark of hope. But it had quickly diminished when Snape chose to ignore Potter's cryptic message and instead decided to walk away.

But what finally drew the line for Draco was when Umbridge suggested using the Crutiatus Curse on her.

"B-but that's illegal!" he had protested loudly. "You can't do that!"

Umbridge had looked at him with cold, knowing eyes and said, "If you have a problem with my methods, Mr Malfoy, I'm afraid you'll have to be ready for a... conversation with your father."

Draco Malfoy was, to this day, ashamed to say that he had given in to the threat. Potter had been so right. He was a coward. He had abandoned his true motive once again, all because he was afraid of his father.

He had watched as Umbridge had pointed her wand at Potter, and silently begged to whoever was listening to make Potter just confess. Whatever secrets were being hidden were probably not even worth Potter's life. Nothing was worth Potter's life.

Luckily, Granger had been much braver than him and stopped Umbridge at the right moment. He could tell she was bluffing about the secret weapon, but anything would work as long as Potter was safe.

Everything, after they left, was a blur. He only saw Potter the next morning in the Daily Prophet, laying in Albus Dumbledore's arms while she was possessed by You-Know-Who. The next few weeks, that was what Draco's nightmares had looked like - Potter facing the Dark Lord and getting terribly injured. He woke up with tears running down his face every time. And if looking at Potter in such a vulnerable state wasn't painful enough, his father had been caught and arrested.

Draco had been completely lost.

When he went home that year, he could sense the tension in the air. There was an unspoken understanding between him and his mother because they had both known very well what was about to come.

It was a month before they were scheduled to go back to Hogwarts that the Dark Lord had called Draco to him. Narcissa had begged and pleaded the Dark Lord to spare him, but nothing deterred him from his decision. Draco was branded with the Dark Mark and given the task of killing the school's most beloved Headmaster, and Rose Potter's mentor, Albus Dumbledore.

Draco knew Potter expected nothing from him, but every time he looked at the mark on his left forearm, he felt as if he'd failed her, betrayed her. He was working for the man that had killed her parents, and was counting the days till he could kill her too.

Potter's disappointed face the only thing he saw every minute of the day, but he knew nothing could be done now. He had already made his choice. He had chosen the dark side - the side of his parents over Potter's - the side that gave people hope. As much as he had wanted to run to Potter and tell her everything, and ask her to protect him, he wasn't in a million years going to abandon his mother.

He'd often wondered what would have happened if he had just shown up at Potter's doorstep (he wasn't sure where she lived) with his mother and begged for forgiveness and asked for a chance to start over again. How would that have turned out? Would she have accepted him? Believed him? Forgotten everything he'd done to her?

He'd known even then, that she would. Because that's what Rose Potter did - she forgave people who didn't deserve her forgiveness and loved people who didn't deserve her love. And that's what made what he was about to do even worse. He'd known that whatever he did that year if he ever asked her to forgive him, she would. She would choose to ignore the horrible person that he was, and find some good in him.

The only thing that had stopped him from asking her for a chance to start over again was his fears. He was afraid of what would happen if his parents found out, her friends found out, the Dark Lord found out. Because while he had been sure Potter would forgive him, he had also been certain the rest of the wizarding world wouldn't.

He'd seen her before Hogwarts began that year, at Madam Malkin's shop in Diagon Alley. The same place they'd met for the first time five years ago. This time, however, their meeting had ended even worse than their first one had, with Draco, Weasley and Potter all having drawn their wands out. Madam Malkin had asked them to lower their weapons, and once they had, Draco and his mother had left.

"Stay away from my son," his mother had threatened Potter.

"Gladly," Potter had replied.

The year had started peacefully, and he had only glanced at Potter once in the Great Hall before he was forced to look away. She had been whispering in Weasley's ear, who had protested against whatever Potter had said. The two had continued to argue frantically, before Granger had given them a threatening look, making them shut up. Then Potter had almost instinctively looked right at Draco and caught his gaze before both of them had hurriedly looked away.

He had started seeing less and less of her after that. Draco had spent most of his time in the Room of Requirement, fixing the Vanishing Cabinet. He had attended very few classes that year, only the ones he thought were absolutely necessary. It wasn't as if his education was even going to matter in a few years, after what he was about to do.

He'd even quit Quidditch that year. Had anyone told him this same time the previous year that Draco would be giving up the sport that he dreamed of having a career in, he'd have laughed at them. But now it just seemed pointless.

He'd heard Potter had been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Draco thought she deserved it more than anyone; she'd earned it over the years. He'd wondered if she'd miss having to deal with his annoying remarks on the pitch during every Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match. He hadn't pondered too long though, he had work to do.

He'd always see her in Potions and DADA, looking lost in her own thoughts almost all the time. That, or she was reading her potions textbook with great interest. When Slughorn had announced the Liquid Luck prize, he'd seen the desperation on her face. She needed it for some reason. On any other day, Draco would have made a terrible potion himself and let her win, but this time, he needed it just as desperately.

She had somehow ended up winning it, much to Draco's inconvenience. The only person in the room who had seemed more upset about it had been Granger, who had glared at her best friend with powerful intensity.

He had continued working on the Cabinet, every attempt of his falling short. When a few months had passed, and he hadn't made any progress, he'd started panicking. With Snape's constant interference and his mother's anxious letters, he had begun crumbling under the pressure. Then one night when he was returning to his common room, he came across someone who he hadn't expected to find roaming around the corridors this late at night.  
Potter had stood in front of him, looking as startled as he felt.

"Were you following me?" were the first words he had managed to speak.

That was his worst nightmare, Potter finding out about his secret. And knowing Potter's curious nature, he wouldn't be surprised to find out she'd been suspicious of him missing classes and quitting Quidditch and not bullying her more often. And the thought of her spying on him was too Potteresque to not consider.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I had to meet someone," she replied.

"Who?" Draco asked, curiously.

"I don't see why I have to tell you that," she'd said. "You're out too, you know. I could ask you the same question. What are you doing here?"

"I don't see why I have to tell you anything either," Draco had repeated.

"Fair enough," she nodded. "Now if you don't mind, I'm tired and I would really love to catch at least a few hours of sleep. Have a good night - whatever's left of it."

"Good night," he'd said as he'd watched her walk towards the Gryffindor tower.

It was Snape who had told Draco a month later that Potter was onto him. He was surprised, he really was. She'd given away nothing that night, and never in a million years would he have guessed she knew exactly what he was doing.

"She has voiced her suspicion that it was you who cursed Ms Bell," Snape had said. "Professor McGonagall has dismissed it as a mere rivalry, of course, but you have to be more careful. What you did was very lousy. Perhaps I could help you..."

Draco had stormed away before he could say any further. His palms were sweating and his heart beating faster. She knew. Rose knew.

His nights became sleepless, and he had stopped attending classes altogether. The Cabinet wasn't even close to being fixed and the year was almost about to end. He only had a month before it was going to happen.

A few weeks before the set date, Draco had lost his cool. He'd rushed to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, holding in the tears of terror that were threatening to spill. Nothing was going as planned, and if this continued, his mother was going to have to suffer because of his incompetence.

And then Potter had turned up behind him, looking at him with a closed off expression from the mirror. She'd wanted to talk to him, tried to talk him out of whatever it was he was about to do, but he didn't let her. He wanted to, he should have, but he didn't.

"It doesn't have to be this day," she'd said. "I can help you."

"I-I have no idea what you're talking about," he'd said.

It had somehow landed him in the hospital wing with a fatal wound, and her in detention with a guilty conscience. It wasn't the physical wound that had hurt him though, it was the fact that she had attempted to kill him. But a part of him knew he'd choose to die at the hands of Rose Potter over someone else, any day.

"I didn't mean to do that," she'd said quietly on the morning of that catastrophic day when she'd passed him in the corridor. Her eyes had refused to meet his, her gaze fixed on her shoes. "I didn't know what the spell did. I wouldn't have used it if I knew it would... you know..."

When her eyes had finally met his, Draco's heart had skipped a beat. For the first time ever, she had looked at him with an expression that hadn't been pure hate. It wasn't what he always dreamed of (he knew that dream was unattainable) but at least it hadn't been complete distaste.  
It was shame. She was ashamed of what she'd done. She was sorry.

"It's okay," Draco had said.

"No it's not," she'd said, "It was terrible of me! I-I tried to k-kill you and I understand if you hate me for it now. I won't blame you."

"What makes you think I didn't already hate you, Potter?" Draco had drawled with an amused smirk.

Registering the humour in his tone, she'd smiled and nodded, muttering, "Fair point, Dipstick."

They'd just stared at each other for a few seconds, before suddenly realising what they were doing and hastily looking away.

"See you around?" she'd asked, her voice sounding guarded again as if she'd just remembered who he was.

Draco had muttered a half-hearted agreement, and they'd both begun walking away in different directions.

The next time they had seen each other again, which was later that same day, they had both been on two different sides of a war. A war that had begun long before they were both even born. A war neither of them had asked to be a part of. A war they were both far too young to fight.

Draco remembered seeing her screaming something in the dark as he was running away into the Forest like the coward that he was. Her words and anger weren't directed at him - but at Snape. She looked furious and betrayed and... completely broken. She looked nothing like the pleasant, charming Rose Potter that the world knew and loved. She looked like a person who was tired and exhausted and beaten.

And he was part of the reason she looked like that.

When Snape had joined him, Draco was shocked at the expression on his face. Whatever Potter had said had hit Snape close to home, because he seemed to be in pain despite being physically untouched.

They'd apparated to the Malfoy Manor where his mother had been waiting to welcome Draco with open arms. It hadn't taken long for the world to get the news: Albus Dumbledore was dead. The one man You-Know-Who feared was dead.

The only hope they had remaining was Rose Potter.


	2. retention

Draco Malfoy had religiously read the newspaper every day for the next two months, in case he stumbled upon any news regarding Rose Potter. He hadn't been allowed to attend any of the meetings that happened in his own house. The only person permitted had been his father, who wouldn't tell him anything that was discussed behind closed doors. He had refused to speak to Draco, believing Draco had embarrassed him further by not succeeding in his mission.

The only time he was allowed inside the dining hall of his Manor was when the Dark Lord was angry and needed a scapegoat. Draco was usually on the receiving end of his fury and was often subjected to the Crutiatius Curse. By the fourth and fifth time, he'd gotten used to it. He'd learnt to just give in and lay there still, letting his mind wander out of his body. He thought about whatever little happy memories he had - his father instructing him on how to ride a broom, his mother teaching his five year old self to read, Potter's red face when she'd yelled at him after she'd caught him bullying Longbottom again, the only time Potter had ever smiled at him on his last day at Hogwarts. It had helped, it really had. It was almost like chasing off dementors with happy memories.

Whenever he walked out of the Hall, his mother would be standing there with teary eyes, prepared to take him to his room and try to heal his injuries. She had been his only companion that year - the only person he trusted. And she was the one who had kept him informed him of whatever throughout those months, with whatever little she managed to get out of her husband. Draco had, at some point, told his mother about his conflicting feelings when it came to Potter. She had been unsurprisingly gentle and understanding about it, going so far as to say that she herself had never been able to truly hate the girl. 

"The Ministry has fallen, Draco - he's in complete control now. The Weasleys were having a wedding, and she was supposed to be there, so he called for an attack," she had told him one afternoon when the house was empty, and they were the only ones around. "Don't worry, she got away before they could get her. They don't know where she's hiding as of now. I'd suppose she must have thought this through. The only problem is, he's very angry now..."

Draco had nodded. This had been her second narrow escape within that month.

Her third escape wasn't long after. The two Death Eaters, Rowle and Dolohov, had traced her down immediately. But she had managed to run away before they had caught her. 

Draco found out about it the hard way. If the Dark Lord had been angry when she'd escaped the wedding, he was furious now. And as usual, Draco was called in to face his wrath. Draco had only mentally prepared himself to be cruciated again. He wasn't prepared for what was really in store for him. The Dark Wizard's face had looked more evil than it normally did when he'd forced Draco to use the Forbidden Curse on one of the men. The spell hadn't worked and Draco had only managed to knock out the man, angering the Lord further. He'd taken it out on Draco, of course, before turning to the other two men. 

Despite the pain he was in, Draco felt relieved that he hadn't been able to perform the Forbidden Curse. He wasn't completely wasted; he was still humane. But that hadn't stopped the guilt and self-disgust from returning and turning most of his nights sleepless, food tasteless and his life purposeless. There was nothing he did all day but lock himself in his room and sit at the window, letting his destructive thoughts and anxiety of what was to come consume him. He had thought about running away numerous times, but knowing that he would be traced back easily, he never really tried.

Only a week after their last encounter with Death Eaters, Rose Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley had their names all over the Daily Prophet. They had somehow managed to infiltrate the fallen ministry and steal something, earning them a free ticket to the 'Wanted' list. Draco had known very well what that meant. The minute they were captured, they'd be dead.

He had been forced to return to Hogwarts for his last year by his father, believing he would be more useful there than here. His mother had agreed, wanting her son as far away from the Dark Lord as possible. 

The Hogwarts castle had been a ghost of what it once was. The halls had become silent, the classrooms lifeless and the students full of terror. Draco could see it in everyone's eyes when they'd looked at him; the anger, the hatred, the betrayal. He didn't blame them.

The Carrows managed most of the school, resorting to illegal methods to punish students who were out of line. Crabbe and Goyle helped them by following them around, but Draco avoided being associated with them. They didn't pay much attention to Draco either, so he was free to do whatever he pleased. He often wandered around the corridors aimlessly at nights, reminiscing the past few years he'd spent in this castle. Trotting around the hallways with Crabbe and Goyle, playing Quidditch with his teammates, sharing a laugh with Zabini, pranking Potter and then arguing with her for hours. The nostalgia was often too much for him, and he would lean against the walls for support, his breathing erratic. 

How had his seemingly carefree, simple life turned into this nightmare?

It was a month later, in the middle of a sleepless night, that he had heard someone knock on his window. It was his mother's owl.

'The snake almost got her tonight. She has managed to escape, but Lucius says her wand was destroyed. Do not worry about her too much, she will be alright. Please take care of yourself, Dragon. - NM'

Draco had shut his eyes and sighed as he burnt the note and then collapsed back onto his bed. How long was she going to survive without a wand to protect herself?

Turns out, a pretty long time. Because for months, there were no signs of her or Granger or Weasley. People had begun wondering whether they'd given up, or run away, or were just busy planning a surprise attack.

Draco had gone back home for Christmas holidays (it felt wrong to even utter the word Christmas with everything that was going on around them) in hopes of avoiding the criticizing eyes that followed him everywhere he went in the school. A few years ago, he would have welcomed them, but now, he just felt dirty.

It had been a few days into the holidays that it had happened. One moment he had been sitting in his room, contemplating his existence, and the next moment, his mother had been standing at his door, looking frantic.

"They're here. The snatchers caught them."

Sure enough, when he had walked downstairs with an unsteady heartbeat, Draco had seen three figures being held by the Snatchers. One look was all it had taken for him to recognize who that endearingly messy head of hair belonged to - it had to be Potter.

"We should call the Dark Lord," his father had said.

"We shouldn't be so hasty Lucius," his mother had interjected quickly. "We have got to be completely sure."

"You're right. Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"

He had then understood what his father had been talking about. Her face hadn't been like her face at all; it had been completely deformed by some sort of a jinx. But her eyes had been the same, and Draco needed no more confirmation to know it was her.

"I don't know," he had said, and he walked away toward the fireplace where his mother stood watching him carefully. She had put her arm around his shoulders in a comforting manner, as they stood watching the fate of his three classmates.

Things had been a little slow paced, thanks to his mother's false hesitation, but then his Aunt Bella had come and all hell had broken loose.

Draco had no idea what was going on, but he had known the three of them were in grave danger. The sword in Bellatrix's hand had suddenly changed her demeanour, and she seemed a mix of angry and scared. Potter and Weasley had been thrown away in their cellar, but she had kept Granger upstairs for questioning. From the look on Potter's face as she had been taken away, she knew exactly what was happening next.

The next few minutes would probably the worst moment of Draco's life. His classmate, the one who he always strove to be as good as at school, had been tortured in front of his eyes by his own family, and he hadn't done anything to save her. Granger's screams had mixed with Weasley's yells of protest from the cellar. Draco's breathing had become irregular and his eyes stung as he looked away.

"Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

Draco had hurried downstairs; anything to get away from what was happening in front of him. As he moved down the staircase towards the cellar, he could hear her voice frantically saying something between Weasley's sobs. Draco thought of any way that he could help them, but one wrong move, and he would be endangering them even more.

As he'd opened the door, everyone had gone silent. When he had walked inside, he'd been glad the place was drowned in darkness. Because he knew very well he did not have the guts to look any of them in the eye after what his family had done to them.

"I have to take the Goblin," he had said shakily. "Everyone else stand back, please."

They'd done as told, and he'd grabbed the Goblin by his arm and begun to drag him out. But he had stopped at the door instinctively and turned around, though it hadn't really made a difference in the darkness.

"I'm sorry for what they're doing to Granger," he'd said.

"Sure you are," Weasley had sneered with a voice that was hoarse from screaming and crying.

"I really am, but I understand why you wouldn't believe me," Draco tried, but knew they had no reason to trust him. As he was about to continue walking away, he heard her voice address him for the first time in months.

"If you really are sorry, maybe you help us?"

Draco squinted in the darkness to look at Potter. He could see her skin was smooth once again, but still looked unhealthy and pale. Her eyes had bags under them and looked droopy from an obvious lack of sleep. She looked so much older than she had a few months ago; so much more mature. As if she knew things that were physically weighing her down. 

"What can I possibly do to help you? If they catch you escaping, I don't think they'll spare you. And Granger's upstairs, you can't leave her here."

"I'm not asking you to let us escape. I just need a few seconds with the Goblin before you take him away," she asked. "That's all I'm asking for."

Had he refused to help her that day, Draco was sure the desperation in her voice would have played over and over in his head and killed him every minute for the rest of his life. He didn't have to find out though, because luckily, for once, he had made the right decision.

"You have to be quick."

He had stood outside nervously, hoping his mother would hold up his aunt and father long enough for whatever it was Potter needed from the Goblin. He had gone back inside only a minute later, and she had stood back and allowed him to take the Goblin away.

"Thank you," she'd said, holding his gaze for a few intense seconds, before he took the Goblin upstairs.

Draco had been physically present there as they interrogated the Goblin, but mentally, he was still down in the cellar. He should have done more, he should have let her escape. He should have just been ready to face the consequences.

When they'd heard another noise from the cellar, Draco had readily volunteered to do check it, but his father was quicker, sending Wormtail instead.

And the interrogation continued. He had caught bits and pieces of it, just enough to make sense of Potter's minute with the Goblin.

"Well? Is it the true sword?"

"No," the Goblin had said. "It is a fake."

"Are you sure?" panted Bellatrix. "Quite sure?"

"Yes," said the Goblin.

Potter had convinced him to lie. Draco had wished she had a plan to get out of his house alive. He couldn't bear the thought of her-

Before he had completed the thought, someone had screamed and suddenly there had been sparks flying everywhere. Draco had stood next to his mother, both of them sending weak spells towards Potter and Weasley. Draco had felt her stiffen as Potter had stupefied his father, making him collapse next to them.

"Stop or she dies!"

There had been silence at Bellatrix's words, and the duelling had stopped.

Draco had looked around and tried to analyse the situation. Potter had his aunt's wand in her hand and her eyes were fixed on Granger, who now had a blade against her throat.

"Drop your wands," Bellatrix whispered. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

When neither Potter nor Weasley did anything, she screeched, "I said drop them!"

"Alright!" Potter had said, looking at Weasley and then back at Granger's half-conscious form. Both of them had dropped their wands.

"Good!" Bellatrix had leered. "Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Rose Potter! Your death approaches!"

Draco had gone rigid. No, no, no - this couldn't be happening. She couldn't be-

"Draco! I said get their wands!" Bellatrix had sneered again. "Or do you want me to do to you what I did to the Mudblood?"

"Don't you dare speak to Draco like-"

"Shut up, Cissy," Bellatrix had said. "Now are you going to get them Draco?"

Draco had walked towards Weasley first and picked up his wand, then he had moved towards Potter. He had quickly managed to catch her eye before he bent over and picked the wand that lay at her feet.

However, there had been an indistinguishable noise above them. And the next thing they knew, the chandelier had dropped, and Draco had doubled over in pain as the shards penetrated his face. Then he'd suddenly felt the wands in his hand being snatched away from him, and when he'd removed his hands from his face to see who it was, he had seen Potter pointing a wand at him. Again. Just like the old times. This time, she grabbed his chin a bit too harshly, tilted his face upwards and muttered what knew was a healing spell.

Before he could comprehend anything else, she'd moved away and attacked someone next to them. Draco felt his mother drag him away from the rest.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I am now," he muttered as he watched the scene unfolding before him.

Potter had grabbed the goblin and was disapparating (even in a moment of life and death she to put others before her). She was gone.

Bellatrix's scream of anger rung throughout the entire mansion as she had waited in fear of what was to some.

"Go upstairs," Draco's mother had told him with a pale face. "He'll be here any minute.'

"I can't-"

"Go, Draco. You shouldn't be punished for your father's actions."

"Neither should you," Draco had said defiantly and stood where he was.

Together, mother and son had faced the wrath of the Dark Lord.

As Draco had laid in bed that night, ignoring the pain in his body, he realised that Rose Potter had his wand. She had a wand - his wand. She'd snatched it from him, so there was a chance it had changed it's alliance.

He didn't have much use for it at that time anyway, he could borrow his mother's. At least he knew she was armed to protect herself.

Draco had returned to Hogwarts once break was over, and continued his routine of having one meal a day and attending no classes. He was usually alone in his dormitory that he shared with Crabbe and Goyle all day, seeing as Blaise had decided not to come back this year with everything that was happening. Draco had isolated himself from the rest of the world and he sat there worrying about his mother, who was back at the Manor, left by herself to deal with the Dark Lord.

And he had worried about Potter, who was out there somewhere, surviving and struggling and trying to save a world that depended on her.

Some days he felt angry - how could all these people expect so much from someone so young and so innocent. But the Potter he'd seen in his Manor reminded him that she'd seen more horrors in the past few months that these people could even imagine.

Other days he was sad and regretful - thinking for hours to no end about how things would have turned out had he offered to help them more.

His mother wrote to him one day saying that the trio had broken into Gringotts, and stolen something from his aunt's vault. None of the Death Eaters knew what exactly it was, but the Dark Lord was beyond furious. His father and Bellatrix had barely survived his rage.

Something was coming, he could tell even then. He just didn't know that it would be coming sooner than he'd anticipated.

Only a day later Goyle had burst into their dormitory with an excited look on his face.

"Potter's in the castle," he'd gasped.

"What?"

"Potter is somewhere in the castle," Goyle repeated. "They're evacuating most of the students. Parkinson got thrown out for suggesting that they hand Potter over to the Dark Lord."

"What about the Carrows?"

"No one knows. She probably killed them or something."

"She couldn't have-"

"Don' ya see what's happenin? Is time. E's gonna end 'er once and for all," Crabbe said from the doorway.

Draco's breathing stopped for a second.

"We should go out. He's going to be there," Goyle had said, "our parents are going to be out there."

"No," Crabbe said. "We can't just run away. I heard one of the Gryffindors say she's looking for something within the castle. Whatever it is, if we find it first and hand it over to the Dark Lord, just imagine what it'll mean for us."

"What do we do Malfoy?" Goyle asked, looking at him for further instructions.

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was happening. This was really happening.

If he followed through with Crabbe's plan, he would find Potter. He needed to find her. He didn't want to hide anymore and act like a coward. He wanted to fight. With her. For her.

So he had just gone with it. Which turned out to be a big mistake.

It had taken them a while, but Draco finally remembered one place that Potter would go to if she wanted to find something.

He had sprinted towards the Room of Requirements with Crabbe and Goyle on his heel. Barely anyone noticed them with all the commotion going around. Draco had easily managed to get into the Room of Hidden Things. She had to be here... she had to be here...

There she was, on her tiptoes reaching for something, when he called out:

"That's my wand you have there, Potter."

"Not anymore," she skidded to a halt and turned around to see him. Her grip tightened on the hawthorn wand. "Winners, keepers. Who's lent you theirs?"

"My mother."

She had smiled, for some reason. Then it had quickly disappeared as she questioned, "Why aren't you with Voldemort?"

"We 'ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to 'im," Crabbe had answered before Draco could tell her he had switched sides.

"Good plan," she replied in mock admiration.

She had then started asking them questions and Draco knew she was cleverly buying time. However, Weasley had called out for her, and Crabbe cast a spell in his direction, bringing down the entire fifty-foot mountain of old objects.

Draco had stopped Crabbe before he could do any more damage, but he then turned on Draco. Stunned by his companion's sudden change of heart, Draco had almost missed the jet of red that he sent towards Potter, but luckily he managed to push Crabbe, making him miss.

"Why are you saving her Malfoy?" Goyle yelled.

Weasley and Granger were up and by her side immediately, and Granger had even managed to send a stunning spell straight at Crabbe's head.

Crabbe had then shot the killing spell at Granger, but she managed to escape in time. Draco could tell that had made Potter furious, as she had sent a powerful jet of red in Crabbe's direction, but he had moved out of the way, knocking Draco's wand out of his hand and beneath a pile of broken furniture.

"Don't kill her! DON'T KILL HER!" Draco had yelled at Crabbe and Goyle, who were both aiming at Potter. Luckily, their split-second's hesitation was all she needed to disarm them. Goyle's wand disappeared out of sight, and Granger leapt after him as Weasley started sending curses in Crabbe's direction.

Potter looked at Draco. "You're wandless, so just stand there and don't try anything," she had threatened as she had begun to scan the pile of furniture and antiques.

"I wasn't planning to," he had replied, looking around nervously. If Granger or Weasley spotted him, he knew they wouldn't be as kind as Potter.

"Sure," her voice had been muffled as the upper half of her body was buried in the pile of objects trying to find the diadem thing. "Keeping me alive to turn me in, huh? That would get your father back all his lost glory."

"Believe it or not, I'm not going to turn you in," Draco had said while keeping an eye on Granger's direction. "I want to help."

"Oh really?"

"Ye-"

"ROSE!"

Draco had looked to see Weasley running in their direction, Crabbe attacking him with what looked like a fire. Alarmed, Draco had begun running in the opposite direction. There was only so much he could have done to defend himself without a wand.

It wasn't long after he'd realised that he should have just stayed with Potter.

Draco had pulled Goyle's unconscious body with him to the top of the furniture pile as the fire surrounded them on all sides.

He had screamed.

He'd thought that was how he was going to die - in a fire set by someone he once called a friend.

His mind had been racing. Had Potter escaped or was she stuck too? Would she notice he was missing? Would she tell his parents? His poor mother!

He regretted bringing Crabbe and Goyle with him here, he knew none of this would have happened if he hadn't helped them. But he hadn't known then that they would suddenly decide to disobey his orders and start thinking for themselves.

And then he'd seen her, that angel. That stupid, brave angel. Flying her broomstick expertly, she'd lowered it as she reached him, and extended her arm. Draco did the same, but the moment their hands had connected, his slipped out of hers. He thought it was impossible. They weren't going to survive.

But then Weasley and Granger had flown close to him and managed to pull Goyle onto their broom. Potter had tried again to pull Draco up and this time, he had managed to successfully clamber on behind her.

"The door, get to the door, the door!" Draco had yelled from behind her, but she was moving in a different direction.

"What are you doing? POTTER, WE'RE GOING TO DIE!"

"FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, MALFOY, SHUT UP!" she'd finally yelled back, and then she'd swooped down and lifted something sparkly from the fire.

Draco had screamed and held onto her so tightly, he was surprised she'd even been able to breathe.

Once she had managed to get them out, Draco had leaned against the wall panting and coughing from all the smoke. Goyle was still unconscious and Granger and Weasley were next to him, catching their breaths.

"Crabbe?"

"He's dead," Weasley had replied harshly.

Draco was devastated. Despite what he'd done in his final moments, he'd still been around for more than ten years. Draco had stayed leaning against the wall for physical support.

Potter was the first one who had gotten over the shock of their near-death experience and had spoken - not to him, but to Weasley and Granger. The three of them talked and Draco could tell something right had happened from the tones of their voices. After a few minutes, he'd heard them get up and leave. 

Or so he had thought.

"You should go take cover somewhere," he'd heard Potter's voice say. "If someone finds you, pretend you're a Death Eater.'

"I am a Death Eater."

"Not really, you're not," she said. "You wouldn't have saved me back there if you really were."

"I could be keeping you alive to hand you over to the Dark Lord."

"You helped at the Manor too," she said, "I haven't forgotten."

"Potter?"

"What?"

"Don't die."

She'd nodded and then she'd left.

Draco had waited till Goyle had regained consciousness, and then told him what had happened. Goyle had insisted on leaving and joining his parents, and Draco had let him. But he wasn't going to leave.

Draco decided to find a place like Potter had told him to, not eager to have another near-death experience. He had then begun walking away when he heard someone behind him.

"Who have we got here?"

Draco recognised the man from several Death Eater meetings.

"D-don't kill me."

"Why should I not?"

"I-I'm with you," he said. "I'm on your side."

"The others tell me you're not," he had sneered. "You are Potter's ally! You have turned! The Lord will hear about this!"

Draco didn't have to attempt to convince the man any longer. Because the next moment, he had been on the floor, hit by a stunning spell.

"Malfoy!" Potter's voice had said, but he couldn't see her. "I thought I told you to go hide somewhere."

Then, someone had punched him and Weasley's voice had said something about saving him twice and called him a two-faced bastard.

Potter had shushed her friend and said, "Malfoy, get his wand." And then he hadn't heard anything else after that.

Draco took the Death Eater's wand and moved around the castle, his only mission to keep himself alive long enough to find his mother. He was moving through the Great Hall when he'd seen Doholov about to hit a blonde girl that Draco knew was Potter's friend.

"Hey!" he'd yelled, getting the girl's attention. "Duck!"

The girl did as he told her, and Draco blocked the spell, sending a stunning spell at Death Eater.

Most of the fight after it was a blur of chaos and creams and shouts. And suddenly, there was nothing. You-Know-Who had given Potter one hour to surrender or threatened to kill everyone. Draco had seen her talking to Longbottom, but then no one saw her after that. He waited outside the Great Hall, not feeling quite right to go inside where people were mourning over loved ones who were killed by his people.

He remembered seeing a frantic Granger and a distraught looking Weasley running out of the Great Hall, shouting at Longbottom who was on the verge of tears.

"How could you let her go?" Weasley had yelled.

The next thing he remembered was the group of Death Eaters approaching, and everyone in the Great Hall coming out, alarmed. Draco had searched the crowd for his mother and sighed in relief when he saw both his parents alive.

But someone else hadn't managed to survive.

McGonagall was the first one who had noticed, followed by Granger and the Weasleys. Draco's heart had stopped and his body had gone numb. Whatever little life and hope he'd left was dead, along with Rose Potter. 

The Dark Lord had made them drop her lifeless body at his feet as if she was less than him. Draco had shut his eyes, unable to look at her lifeless form. This had to be fake. She had been alive just an hour ago, shouting at him and saving his life and ... just being Potter.

He could see Longbottom saying something, but his hearing hadn't been functioning. He saw Longbottom withdraw the sword he'd seen with Potter at his Manor out of nowhere and slash the snake's throat. Chaos had ensued around him once again, and a few moments later, he had heard his mother's voice.

"Draco, oh Draco! You're alright!"

She had pulled him away from where the duelling was happening and pulled him a tight embrace. He could see his father standing behind her; the relief on his face different from anything Draco had ever seen before.

"Are you alright, Dragon?"

"R-rose..." he hadn't been able to speak any more than that.

His mother's expression changed, as she'd hugged pulled away from the embrace, a knowing look on her face.

"Draco, she's-"

"SHE'S ALIVE!"

"OH MERLIN, SHE'S NOT DEAD!"

But the gasps and screams and cheers had interrupted whatever it was she had been about to say. All the three Malfoys had rushed to the crowd to see what it was that had everyone so shocked, and Draco heard his father huff in shock.

He himself had been paralysed with disbelief for a few seconds before he had turned to look at his mother, his eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

"H-how-?"

She only shrugged.

Draco had let out an ugly sob before turning back to the scene in front of him, where the Dark Lord and the Girl Who Lived stood face to face, their wands pointed at each other.

"I don't want anyone else to help," she had said loudly, "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me. This is how it was always supposed to be, wasn't it Riddle? You and me?"

He'd watched in complete awe as she'd unfolded the entire truth before everyone, managing to unnerve the Dark Lord with her powerful words. She'd told them about her Lily Potter's sacrifice, about Albus Dumbledore's master plan, about Severus Snape's love and about the Elder Wand's power, all the while keeping her tone steady and challenging. She'd almost addressed the Dark Lord like an old puzzle that she'd been trying to solve for years and had finally figured out; as if she finally knew who or what he truly was.

And then she'd flicked Draco's wand at the same time that the Dark Lord had raised the Elder Wand, commencing a duel that the people witnessing it would pass on as an anecdote to the next several generations.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

He had stood no chance against her, and had been disarmed almost immediately. Potter had caught the Elder wand in the air with mesmerising grace, displaying her excellent Seeker skills.

Just like that, she'd killed the man who had taken thousands of lives and destroyed hundreds of families, spreading only fear and destruction among the world.

Rose Potter had defeated Lord Voldemort.

Draco had watched as people had rushed to her, hugging, shaking hands and even just touching the girl who had saved the world, paying no attention to the vacant and tired expression on her face. Even as they had retreated to the Great Hall, everyone had continued pushing and pulling her around, not giving her any time to herself.

Draco sat at a table with his parents on either side, relieved that no one had been too keen to pay them any attention. His father had been silent, but his mother seemed happy as she scanned him over and over again to look for any possible injuries.

His nightmare was over. Draco Malfoy was free.

Or so he had thought.

Because only a few months later, he now sat in courtroom ten of the Ministry of Magic with his parents, all three of them awaiting the results of their trial. He was staring at the face of Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister of Magic, who sat in his seat about to begin questioning the last minute, unexpected witness who had turned up not seconds ago.

As Draco's memories of her from the past seven years replayed in his mind, he realised that she had no reason to stand witness and save him today. She owed him nothing. But he knew she would save him anyway.

Because that's just what Rose Potter does. She saves people.


	3. absolve

The room was square, with benches rising in levels along each wall. There were at least 200 people in the room, three of whom were seated in a special area, about to hear the judgements that would change their lives forever.

The Malfoys had a joint hearing, seeing as there were too many accused to grant each one of them special hearings. The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, sat at the front of the room, on a high chair, with other ministers on either side. He looked tired and his skin seemed a little chalky as if all life had been drained from him. Draco had read in newspapers that as Minister and a friend, he was the one who had conducted most of the funerals that had happened in the days following the end of the war. And immediately after, the responsibility of presiding over every hearing that was conducted had fallen on his shoulders, too.

In the centre of the room was a chair for the defendants and the witnesses, with chains on the armrests that bound the guilty that sat in it. They had wrapped themselves around Draco when he had taken the seat, and the same had happened with his parents. But the chains now lay limp at the sides, finding no reason to bind the person that currently sat in the chair.

No one had heard or seen much of Rose Potter since the war had ended. She'd been photographed at a few funerals, but after that, she had almost disappeared. So the entire courtroom had gone into a frenzy the moment she entered, wondering why she had decided to show up at the Malfoys' hearing of all places. 

"What is the stupid girl doing here?" Draco's father sneered, "Hasn't she done enough already?"

"Don't call her stupid," Draco snapped before he could stop himself.

His father looked startled. "What?"

"She's not the reason we're here, it's our own fault," Draco said. "So don't call her stupid. We're stupid."

Draco saw his mother suppress a smile as his father looked away with a huff. Draco slipped his hand into hers as they watched Potter take the oath before the Minister began speaking.

"Ms Potter, before you begin, I would like to inform you that there are strict criminal charges pressed against Mr Lucius Malfoy, Mrs Narcissa Malfoy and Mr Draco Malfoy," Kingsley Shaklebolt said warily. "I hope you understand we have strong evidence to suggest all three of them were involved with Voldemort and were at no point in time under the influence of the Imperius curse."

"I understand, Minister."

"Alright then, Ms Potter," he said. "We are ready to hear what you've got to say."

Potter adjusted her glasses, before beginning, "I'm here to request the committee to pardon Narcissa Malfoy from all charges."

The quiet courtroom was consumed with hushed whispers and gasps of astonishment. Draco looked to his right to see his parents and saw his father looking at Potter, stunned. His mother, on the other hand, looked like she was about to cry.

"What is the girl doing?" his father whispered hastily.

"Something we don't deserve," Narcissa answered, keeping her eyes on Potter.

The Minister quickly quietened the room and continued, "And you make such a request, Ms Potter, why?"

"She saved my life when Voldemort attempted to kill me in the Forbidden Forest."

"How did she save your life?"

"She told him I was dead. I wasn't," Potter said. "If she'd told him the truth, he would've realised his wand couldn't hurt me and asked someone else to kill me. None of us would be here if she hadn't lied to him. I owe her my life."

Shaklebolt looked at Draco's mother for a minute, before looking back at Potter. Draco himself stared at his mother in surprise and gratitude. His mother was the reason Rose Potter was alive?

She'd lied to the Dark Lord; she'd done something even the strongest of wizards and witches wouldn't dare to do. Draco realised how much of an idiot he'd been to worry about her constantly. She was stronger than both, him and his father combined - she was the last person who needed someone worrying about her.

"The council will take that into consideration while making our final judgement, Ms Potter," the Minister nodded, "Do you have anything to say about the other two accused?"

"Yes," Potter said, and looked up at the stands where Draco was sitting. Their eyes met for a minute, and Draco looked away, ashamed. "I'm asking for the committee to pardon Draco Malfoy of all charges, too."

"Your reason for the request?"

"He saved my life on two separate occasions," she said, "And I believe he was coerced into performing most of the criminal actions that he performed."

"Do you have any evidence to support that statement, Ms Potter?"

"I witnessed it," she said, and Draco's eyes widened. He felt his mother squeeze his hand in comfort as his heartbeat fastened.

"Are you saying that you were present on the occasions when he was... threatened?" A Minister asked, leaning forward in her seat.

"No. But you see, for a long time, I was able to see through Riddle's eyes. Often, he showed me things he wanted me to see, things he thought would intimidate me," Potter said, and Draco saw her visibly stiffen as she continued. "I saw him using the Cruciatus Curse on Draco Malfoy. I believe he knew it would unnerve me to see my classmate in such agony."

Draco shut his eyes as he processed the fact that that monster had shown her a vision of him getting tortured. And if it was one of the first times, Draco knew it must've been a horrible scene to witness.

The Minister cleared his throat and said, "You said he saved you twice, Ms Potter?"

"Yes," she said, "He aided me in escaping from his house when I was captured by Snatchers, and also once during the battle when I found myself under threat. Apart from that, he also stopped a killing curse from hitting Hannah Abbott, a fellow Hogwarts student. I believe this suggests that he had switched sides."

Only a few hours ago, Draco had been completely sure he was going to be in Azkaban with dementors, but now he wasn't so sure anymore. Potter had somehow managed to completely turn the tables.

"Did he tell you that yourself?" the Minister asked. "That he had switched sides."

She was quiet for a second as she looked at Draco, before turning back and saying, "Yes, he did. He said he wanted to help me."

"Alright Ms Potter," the Minister nodded, "Do you have any defence for Lucius Malfoy, or will this be all?"

"No, I do not have any excuse for the actions of Lucius Malfoy. I truly believe he is a malicious, repulsive excuse of a wizard and should receive due punishment for what he's done," Potter said, and Draco saw Shacklebolt's face flooded with relief. "But what I do have, is a proposal."

"Which is?"

"When I said that Riddle showed me his memories, I forgot to mention that sometimes, I accidentally saw the things in his mind that he would have preferred to keep hidden. So I know there is more here than what meets the eye, Minister. More people involved, people we don't know about. But Lucius Malfoy does, he knows everything."

"What are you suggesting?"

"A lighter punishment in exchange for information," she said.

The hall was absolutely silent for a while, people exchanging frantic glances and whispering amongst themselves. Draco heard his father take a deep, shaky breath.Â 

"Ms Potter, I see the logic behind your suggestion, but it is far too dangerous to the man out."

"But it's not like it hasn't been done before," she argued, "Igor Karkaroff was let off the hook in exchange for information last time. I'm not asking for complete pardon, Minister, I'm only suggesting a lighter term. It's a win-win situation."

Draco noticed her sharp, even tone and calculated words. She knew what she was dealing with here and how to go about making her case. And besides, Draco knew no one would be stupid enough to refuse the girl who conquered the Dark Lord; not when she was making complete sense.

"I see you've done your research, Potter," the Minister said, giving her a weak smile. "Do you have anything else you want to add?"

"No, I think that'll be all, Minister," she answered after a few seconds of thinking.

The Minister nodded and gathered the council around his table, and they immediately began discussing something.Â 

Draco looked at his mother to see her wiping her tears with her free hand, her other hand still holding his.Â 

"Oh Draco," she said, sniffing. "I don't know what to say."

"Me neither."

"I feel awful about-," she said, looking him in the eye, "about everything we've done."

Draco's father, though, was quietly staring at his fingers in his lap. Draco hoped he was feeling at least a little remorse for his actions.

Potter had now left the seat and was sitting opposite Draco in the front row, next to one of the Weasley brothers. She absently tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear and nodded at something that Weasley said, looking like she wanted to be anywhere but next to him. Her face was blank as she stared at her shoes.

"All right, then. We have decided to have a vote in the committee," the Minister announced as the council took their seats once again. Draco quickly looked away from Potter and fixed his attention on the front of the courtroom. "We will begin with Mrs Malfoy. Ms Bones, if you may?"

The woman next to him nodded.

"Those in favour of clearing all charges against Narcissa Malfoy?" she asked.

It happened slowly, but many hands went up.

Bones then asked, "And those in favour of conviction?"

A few hands went up this time too, but Draco could tell there weren't as many as there had been the first time.

"All right then," Kingsley Shacklebolt said, "Narcissa Malfoy - cleared of all charges."

Draco laughed in disbelief and wrapped his arms around his mother, who softly cried into his shoulder.

"You're free, Mother," he said, his eyes meeting his father's identical ones. Lucius gently rubbed his wife's shoulder. "It's okay, you're going to be okay."

Draco felt her nod slightly.

"Next," Bones said, watching the Malfoys closely. "Those in favour of clearing all charges against Draco Malfoy?"

There were far lesser hands up this time, and Draco felt his stomach drop. People wanted him in Azkaban. He knew he deserved it, but it still hurt to know that people did too. He saw Potter saying something to Weasley, who hadn't raised his hand. She then shook her head and looked away, meeting Draco's gaze once again. She gave him what he assumed was supposed be a comforting nod, but looked like a grimace.

"And those in favour of conviction?"

The hands that went up seemed almost equal to the ones that went up earlier. He could tell Potter was thinking the same thing, because for the first time since she'd arrived, she seemed nervous.

Shacklebolt took a minute, before announcing, "Draco Malfoy - cleared of all charges."

Draco's mother let out a sob and he himself felt his eyes tear up with the shock of the events.

He really was a free man. He was free to do anything he wanted, without being scared of anyone. He could finally live his life the way he wanted to.

He saw Potter talking to Weasley when he glanced at her again. There was a smug look on her face and it seemed like she was giving Weasley a good old 'I told you so'. When she looked at Draco and saw him already looking, she gave him a thumbs up. He mouthed a 'thank you' to her, and her expression turned solemn as she nodded slowly.

"Lucius Malfoy," Shacklebolt said, grabbing everyone's attention once again. "The council wants to ask you a few questions before making a decision regarding your statement. We want you to take the seat."

His father gulped nervously as he looked at his wife and his son. 

"If I do not get a pardon," he said slowly, "do not dwell on it too much. I will be alright."

Draco's mother shook her head, "You will get out, Lucius. I know it. Tell them everything you know, okay?"

He nodded slowly and then kissed his wife's cheek, before walking away.

Once he was seated in his chair, Shacklebolt began almost immediately, "Mr Malfoy, you heard Ms Potter's statements. Do you believe her statements about additional involvement to be true? The existence of people the Ministry still remains unaware of?"

His father took his time before saying, "Yes, she's right."

The Minister looked satisfied. "Are you willing to share the information with the Ministry in exchange for a lenient statement?"

"Yes, I am."

Shacklebolt looked at Bones once again, who nodded at him

"In that case, the council has decided that a special, private hearing be conducted tomorrow itself," Shacklebolt said. "You will stay in custody of the Ministry until them. Not Azkaban, just a prison. If you are able to provide us with any vital information, you will be put on house arrest. If not, you will be sentenced to Azkaban for life imprisonment."

Narcissa sighed in relief beside Draco. 

"Mrs Malfoy and Mr Draco Malfoy, you are both free to go," Shacklebolt said, turning to them, and then announced, "This committee is adjourned for the day."

Everyone got up from their seats and began exiting the hall. A few people politely congratulated them on their way out, while many glared at them. Once the crowd had dispersed, Draco and his mother watched as the officials took his father away through a back door.

"He'll be alright," Draco reassured her. "I'll sure they'll let him go once he gives them all the information they need tomorrow."

She nodded, and then looked at him properly with a small smile, "Let's go home, Draco."

 _Home_. Draco could not find it in himself to tell her that that place did not feel like home anymore. He could only associate the Malfoy Mansion with bad memories. He had spent most of his time since the war locked in his bedroom, despite feeling suffocated in his own house. His parents knew better than to disturb him and he was usually left to his own thoughts.

As they exited the courtroom, Draco saw Potter and Weasley standing alone near a pillar, engrossed in a heated argument.

Draco looked at his mother, who nodded silently.

"Why don't you just ask your brother, huh?" Draco heard Potter snap in a disgruntled voice, as he and Narcissa walked closer to them. "He'll tell you all about it."

"Look, Rose, whatever happened between the two of you...Whatever it is he said to you..." Weasley sighed, "You have to understand that George is mourning right now."

"That still does not justify what he said," Potter said. "He's forgetting that he's not the only one mourning, Percy. I'm letting him and his family mourn in peace. Isn't that what he said he wanted?"

"He feels guilty-"

"Sure he does."

Weasley sighed in exasperation and began to protest when he noticed Draco and his mother behind the two of them. His posture stiffened and Potter must have noticed that because she too looked around. 

When she noticed who it was, she nodded politely, although Draco could tell she was still a little pissed.

Weasley, on the other hand, ignored them and said, "I think I'm going to leave. But whatever you decide to do, just remember that everyone's worried about you back home. Especially mum."

It was almost comical how quickly Potter's expression softened at the mention of the Weasleys' mother.

"Tell Mrs Weasley I'm alright," she answered quickly, "She doesn't have to worry about me, I have Kreacher with me. He's started liking me much more since the war - does all the cleaning and cooking in the house. I'll be fine."

Weasley nodded slowly, and then after giving Potter a pat on the shoulder, he walked away.

Potter turned away from him and looked at Draco and then at his mother.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Malfoy-"

But his mother had other plans because she had pulled Potter in for a hug. Potter looked a little startled at first, but then she tentatively rubbed his mother's back.

"T-thank you so much," his mother said as she began crying once more.

"You're welcome Mrs Malfoy, really," Potter said gently. 

"You didn't have to help us," his mother said, "But you still did. This means so much to us."

Potter looked like she didn't know what to say, so she just stood there and held his mother with a startled expression. Draco couldn't remember anyone ever being kind to his mother; everyone always assuming the worst of her because she was Lucius Malfoy's wife. But Potter was being characteristically nice to her, and Draco was beyond thankful for that.

When his mother pulled away from the embrace, she hastily wiped away her tears and muttered, "Merlin, I'm a mess."

"That's quite understandable," Potter said. 

His mother smiled at Potter fondly and said, "I hope you know I am truly sorry for all the harm my family and I have ever caused you."

"And I've forgiven you," Potter said, but she sounded unconvinced. "I'm trying to put all of this behind me, I suggest you should too."

His mother nodded and patted Potter's cheek, before looking at Draco and saying, "I'll wait outside."

When Draco nodded, she left after bidding Potter goodbye.

"That went well, don't you think?" Potter said, looking at his mother walking away.

Up close, he noticed, Potter looked worse than she did in the photos he'd seen in the Daily Prophet. The battle-worn eyes were the same, but there was a tiredness to her whole face. She too, like Draco, had dark circles beneath her eyes, and her skin looked pale as if she hadn't stepped out of the house for years. 

"I'd say it went more than just well," Draco said, "She definitely likes you."

"A Malfoy likes me - that's new," Potter said with a forced laugh. "Guess there's a first time for everything."

Draco wanted to laugh bitterly about how untrue that statement really was. But the silence around them was so tense, he was struggling to find something to say.

"Malfoy, I -"

"Potter, you -"

They stared at each other.

"You go first," she sighed.

'I just - you don't have to - you don't have to be polite to me. We've been arguing since long before - you know, and I don't see any reason why we should... stop.'

Potter shrugged. The gesture infuriated Draco. The person that stood before him was not Potter - she couldn't be. There was no fire in her eyes, her posture was slumped and she looked... she just looked defeated.

But then again, he knew he didn't look any better himself. While he was physically still eighteen, sometimes his mirror showed him a man that was ten years older and tired of his life.

Draco had hoped that the next time he met Potter, she'd insult him. And then he'd insult her. And then they'd keep going back and forth like they did in the older times, unknowingly distracting each other from the bigger problems in both of their lives. Draco hadn't felt something as innocently exciting as their rivalry for a long time, and he yearned for it.

"What does that mean?" he asked, imitating her shrug.

She smiled, but it failed to reach her eyes. "I just... I honestly don't have the energy for hate anymore."

Draco was disappointed. "Right."

Once again, they stood in a painful silence, before Potter suddenly muttered. "I almost forgot!"

"What-"

She pulled out a sleek, dark box and slid it open, revealing a very familiar wand.

"10 inches long, hawthorn wood and one unicorn hair core," she said, "I believe this is yours, Malfoy."

Draco took the box from her hands and picked up the wand, immediately feeling a very familiar warmth shoot through his body. 

He suddenly remembered something and asked her with a frown, "I thought you said my wand changed it's allegiance when you snatched it away from me. Isn't that how you became the master of the Elder Wand?"

"You listened?" she asked, "I checked with Ollivander last week, I had similar worries. He said Hawthorn wands are very picky, so they recognize their old masters. It should work for you just fine."

"But you'll still somewhat have control over it?" he asked.

"Yes, and you'll have to trust me to not steal it," she said.

"I guess I can live with that," Draco said with a nod. "What about you? Whose wand are you using now?"

"I got my own wand back," she said, lazily waving around the wand in her hand that was a little longer than his, and a few shades lighter. "I had some good days with yours, but nothing beats phoenix feather."

"I'm sure you did," Draco said.

She nodded, and they fell silent once again. Draco tried to think of something to say, but she spoke before he could.

"I-I better get going," she said and Draco's stomach dropped. "I've got some stuff to do back home."

Draco nodded while wondering where 'home' was for her. Clearly, she wasn't living with the Weasleys anymore.

"My mother must be waiting too," he said. "I'll walk you out?"

She nodded, and they started walking down the dungeon. Once they were up on ground floor, they walked in the direction of the entrance. Draco saw his mother standing near the booths and turned to Potter to bid her farewell.

"See you around, Potter?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, but he could tell she wasn't sure about the truth in her answer herself.

"You didn't tell me you saved her life," Draco said at dinner that night.

He was sitting in the kitchen with his mother, as both of them had mutually decided to avoid the Dining Hall as much as possible. Every time he walked in there, he was reminded of the lifeless body of Professor Burbage as it had crashed down onto the same table at which he had enjoyed his childhood birthdays and Christmas dinners.

"What really happened?"

"We were already worried about you when you didn't turn up with the rest of the Slytherins. I knew you'd stayed behind for her," his mother said, after swallowing the food in her mouth. "And then Goyle told us about the fiendfyre and that you didn't have a wand. I was worried that something had happened to you, Dragon, something terrible."

Draco remained silent as she continued, "You'd stayed behind in the middle of the war for her, the least I could do for you was save her. So I did."

Draco breathed unsteadily, "Thank you, mother."

She nodded, and they both went back to eating, lost in their own thoughts.

The next day, Lucius Malfoy was placed under house arrest. Apart from the trace that was put on him, spells were placed on their mansion by Ministry officials to prevent his father from escaping. Once they had left and his father had settled in properly, Draco decided to visit Zabini. While he wasn't exactly his best friend (Draco didn't have any)he was still the only friend that was around. Draco apparated to his house, which while not as large as Draco's, was still huge. And very much like the Malfoy mansion, his house had a distinct cold feeling to it. 

Draco found his friend in his backyard, snogging a dark-haired girl with Celestina Warbeck playing on the radio in the background.

"Nice to know you're having a good time," Draco said, switching off the radio and getting the couple's attention. "I did not go to Azkaban, but thank you for worrying about me so much."

Blaise looked at him uncomfortably as the girl, who Draco recognised as the younger of the Greengrass sisters, lifted herself off of him and sat beside him on the ground.Â 

"I knew you didn't go to Azkaban," Blaise said but didn't meet his gaze.

"Finally received your true calling for divination, did you?" Draco asked. "Didn't know you possessed the third eye."

"He didn't need divination to know that," Greengrass replied coldly, handing the Daily Prophet besides her to Draco.

On the cover of the Prophet was a picture of Potter from the previous day. She was in front of the Ministry building, walking away in a hurry while shielding her face from the photographers. The headline read: _Rose Potter steps out after two months of hiding. Ends up attending the much anticipated Malfoy hearing? Check page 8 for more details on the hearing that has everyone talking._

"I'm guessing she got you out?"

"Yeah, she did," Draco replied. "Mother and Father too."

"I think it's about time you built a shrine dedicated to her. The girl deserves it after all the times she's saved your sorry arse," Blaise smirked.

Draco glared at him. "What's gotten into you?" he asked.

But he could not ignore the truth in his statement. He wasn't sure about himself, but his mother was showing signs of wanting to build a shrine for Potter. She hadn't stopped talking about her since the previous day. While Draco didn't mind his mother's newfound appreciation for the Girl-Who-Lived, his father seemed especially pissed about his wife constantly reminding him that whatever little freedom he had, was because of Rose Potter. Draco had a feeling she was doing it on purpose, to get a rise out of her husband.

"Nothing," Zabini answered shortly, sharing a look with Greengrass. She suddenly got up and walked away while muttering something about using the washroom, leaving two boys alone.

Blaise sighed. "Look, mate, I don't know how to do this. But, you have to understand that with all the media circus going one about you and your family-"

Suddenly, realisation dawned upon Draco, and Zabini's weird behaviour started making some sense.

"Let me guess," Draco said bitterly, "You don't want to associate yourself with me?"

"You have to understand it's nothing personal. Mum just doesn't think it's for the best-"

"Mum?" Draco said with a laugh that was anything but humorous. "Yes, why don't you listen your mum and ditch me?"

"Don't pretend like you're any better," Zabini snapped, losing the calm front he had tried to put up. "You bullied Potter your entire time at Hogwarts just because your father wanted you to. You think no one realised that you had the hots for her?"

Draco felt his face go red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "How dare you-"

But Zabini didn't stop there. "How does it feel, Malfoy? Knowing the girl you love hates you with every fibre of her being? It'll sting, won't it? Watching her every day for the next year, but never really talking to her?"

"Why would I see her every day?"

"Hogwarts," Blaise said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"We finished our education," Draco snapped. "We're eighteen. What are you talking about?"

"You haven't been keeping up with the rest of the world, have you?" Zabini smirked, "They're accepting seventh years back because of the Carrows' incomplete education."

"And you're actually thinking of going back?" Draco asked, looking at him like he was stupid.

"I need a job, unlike you. Not everyone has everything handed to them on a silver plate," Zabini said. "But you'll probably chicken out, won't you?" 

"I went last year, unlike you," Draco said, narrowing his eyes.

"And Astoria says you were locked up in your room the entire year; afraid of the Carrows," Zabini smirked, "You can stay locked up in your house this year like your father is."

"Do not talk about my father like that," Draco snapped. "And just so you know, I'll be there at Hogwarts."

"Whatever," Zabini said. "Just don't bother talking to me, or any of the others, for that matter."

Draco woke up in the middle of the night that night, with images of the fiendfyre playing in his head. He heard Crabbe calling out for him in his last moments, Potter helping him climb onto her broom, the warmth of the fire on his skin...

He was sweating despite his room having a low temperature, and his heartbeat was a little faster than normal. Draco loosened his grip on his bedsheets and got out of the bed. He proceeded to strip down and went in for a cold shower.

His mind wandered back to what had happened earlier that day. If Blaise had given up their acquaintanceship so easily, Draco was almost certain that no one else would stand by him. He was all alone now. 

He wasn't sure how he felt about facing all his classmates after the war. How would they react to him showing up at the same school he once conspired against? The news of Potter supporting his family at the hearing would soon spread around, so that should help. But will her words be enough to convince everyone that he wasn't really a bad person?

He himself wasn't sure if he was a bad person or not. He couldn't be that terrible if Potter had decided to forgive him, right? Speaking of, would Potter be there? And would Hogwarts even accept an ex-convict Death Eater in the first place?

Apparently they did because a few days later, their family owl dropped a bunch of letters on their table during breakfast, one of which was from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

_**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY** _

_**Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall** _

**_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_ **

**_We are pleased to inform you that Hogwarts is accepting you back for your last year of education. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._ **

**_Yours sincerely,_**  

**_Filius Flitwick_ **

**_Deputy Headmaster_**  

"Who might that be from?" his father asked.

"Hogwarts," Draco answered, making both of his parents stare at him questioningly. "They're calling me back to finish my last year."

His father remained stoic, but Narcissa smile encouragingly, "You should go, sweetheart. Don't you think, Lucius?"

"Hmm," his father replied as he meticulously buttered his toast.

 _Easy for them to say_ , Draco thought. They weren't the ones who would have to deal with all the dirty looks and judgemental stares.

"What have you decided?" his mother asked him when he didn't reply.

"There's still time before I need to make a final decision,"  Draco replied. "I'll think about it."

The next few days, Draco saw the speculation in Witch Weekly over whether Rose Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley would return to Hogwarts for their final year. Few people expressed they would, while most believed they didn't need to complete their education. Potter had defeated one of the darkest wizards in the past few decades - that was good enough to get whatever job she wanted.

Draco was certain Granger would go back, she seemed like the kind of person that would want to finish her education despite not needing to. And judging from Morgana Thornheart's article on page two about Granger and Weasley's newfound romance, Draco was sure Weasley would accompany her. And where there are Granger and Weasley, there's always Potter. They came in a set. If he ended up deciding to return, at least he had the annoying trio to look forward to.

So when he found himself writing a reply to the school only three days later, he tried to convince himself he was only going there for his education and to try and mend whatever little reputation he had left. He was not going back because Potter probably was. He refused to even entertain the thought that she would suddenly want to be friends with him this year. 

He was not going back in hopes of befriending the green-eyed girl from the shop. She didn't need him seven years ago, and she didn't need him now.

 


	4. restart

Draco had gotten a compartment at the very end of the train. Most people on the platform had gawked and stared at him as he had boarded the Hogwarts Express, confused as to why he would ever come back. He'd known very well what he was getting himself into, but it still made him feel queasy to have so much negative attention.

His mother had been overjoyed when he'd told her he would be going back, believing it would be a good thing for her son to finally socialise after months of isolation. His father remained indifferent. 

He had walked to the station alone, ignoring his mother's offers to accompany him. All around him, he'd seen children being waved off by their parents, but he'd remained indifferent.

Draco stared out of the compartment window and observed the usual group of people. First years looking around in awe and excitement, mothers wiping tears as they parted with their children, older students greeting and laughing around with their friends...

He sighed bitterly, realising he'd never have any of that.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" 

Draco turned around to see none other than Potter, leaning against his compartment door with her arms folded across her chest. Much like Draco, she was already dressed in school uniform.

"When you don't have your parents to drop you off?"

Draco felt his face go red, remembering the numerous times he'd taunted her about her dead parents. He sighed and shook his head lightly, before asking, "What are you doing here Potter?"

"The same thing that you are," she said, inviting herself inside. She slid the door shut behind her and took the seat opposite Draco. "Getting away from people who want to stare at me. They found my compartment, so I had to shift."

Draco had wondered how she would adjust to all the idolatry, and he'd been right to guess that she would shy away from it.

"And they won't find you here?"

"If anyone comes by, I'll hide under the seat," she said, "Besides, one look at you, and they'll assume this is the last place to search for me."

"At least they're staring at you because they like you," Draco commented.

"It's no better than what you're probably dealing with," she said. "You don't have to talk to them - I do. They want to hear over and over again how it feels like to die. I keep telling them this brutal story about how I was in tremendous pain and felt my entire body ripping apart - get's them every time."

Draco shook his head. "What did it really feel like?" he asked.

"It wasn't bad actually," she said. "Didn't feel a thing - hey Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"I can see your friends coming this way," she said, suddenly standing up. "Looks like I'll have to find another compartment to hide in-"

"What friends?" Draco asked frantically.

"Uh, Theodore Nott and three others I don't recognise," she said, and then looked at Draco's expression. "What's wrong?"

"They, uh, they aren't my friends anymore," he said, "After I changed sides during the war and all..."

A look of understanding crossed her face. "I guess we'll have to stick to my plan then," she said, settling down once again. "Get under the seat, I'll handle them."

As ridiculous as it sounded, Draco did as she told him and barely managed to fit his body in the narrow space between the floor and the seat. All he could see from under there were Potter's long legs, making Draco look the other way to prevent his brain from coming up with inappropriate thoughts.

He heard the compartment door slide open and saw four pairs of feet march in.

"Hey everyone, look who it is!" he heard Theodore Nott say mockingly. "The saviour of the Wizarding World!"

"Hello Nott," Potter said calmly. Draco could imagine her expression right now - controlled, with a sarcastic smile. It was the same expression she'd used with him during their initial years. "Pleased to see you again."

"Yeah, I'm sure you are," Nott said, "Where's your two friends?"

"You mean _where are_ my two friends?" Potter said, correcting his language. "Prefects' carriage. They're head boy and girl, so watch whatever you're about to say next."

"Don't act smart with me Potter," Nott sneered. "Have you seen Malfoy? We were told he was in this compartment."

"Well, he's not here, is he?" Potter quipped. "And you think I'd ever share a compartment with that ferret?" 

"Fair point," Draco heard a girl's voice. "He ain't here Theo, let's check the other side of the train. I have a feeling Zabini lied to us."

The group left a few seconds later, not before insulting Potter a few more times. Once they were gone, she peeped out the window and then bent over, signalling Draco to come out of hiding.

"Zabini?" she quizzed, watching Draco struggle to get out. "Isn't he your friend?"

"Was," Draco grunted, as he finally slipped out of the confined place rather ungracefully.

She raised her eyebrows but didn't say anything further on that matter.

Draco turned back to the half-read copy of _Wizards and Giants_ that lay open in his lap. He'd read it so many times before, but a serious lack of new books in his collection was forcing him to reread the same book twice. He made a mental note to buy new books on the first trip to Hogsmeade. He preferred to buy books rather than read the old ones in the school library.

There was silence in the compartment for a while, and Draco enjoyed it. When he looked up from his book several minutes later, he noticed Potter tossing a snitch in the air and catching it over and over again.

"Stole it?" Draco asked.

She looked away from the passing scenery and towards him with an arrogant smirk. "Won it."

"Are you going to play this year?" Draco asked her.

"I don't think I am. Ron says he will, but I don't feel right taking someone else's place. Besides, Ginny really wants to be Seeker," she sighed. "Are you?"

Draco shook his head, "Didn't even bother getting my broom. It's just not the same anymore."

Potter nodded slowly, "It's not..."

Suddenly, the door to their compartment slid open once again, and much to his annoyance, Granger and Weasley walked in.

"Rose, we were ju-" Weasley began, but he looked horrified when his eyes landed on Draco. Draco had to say, he reciprocated the feelings. "What are you doing here, you slimy git?"

Draco had to hand it to Granger, she handled it much better. Shooting a stern glance at Weasley, she said, "I'm sure there's no need for that Ronald." She then looked at Draco and gave him a tentative nod, which he returned.

"What do you mean-" Weasley began with a frown, but Granger talked over him once more.

"Are you coming with us, Rose?" she asked. "Neville's got us a different compartment. No one will find you there."

Potter gave Draco a hesitant look, which, for some reason, infuriated him. Now that her friends were here, she was going to abandon him and walk away with them.

"You should go, Potter," he snapped. "Don't want to keep the Weasel and Granger waiting, do we?"

She looked at him strangely, before getting up and following her friends out.

Draco slammed the door shut after her and sat back down, glaring into nothingness. When he realised how unproductive that was, he went back to reading his book in silence, but eventually fell asleep after reading only a few pages. When he woke up after a few hours due to the train jerking to a halt and realised that they'd probably reached the school. As he pulled down his luggage from the overhead compartment, he realised that his irregular sleeping cycle was going to interfere with his schedule once regular school began. He'd have to somehow deal with it.

Draco waited for most of the train to empty, before getting off. He got a carriage with a group of third or fourth year Slytherins, who all looked at Draco with wide eyes the entire journey to the Hogwarts castle. When they reached the castle, they quickly walked ahead of him, ran and started whispering something, while occasionally glancing back at Draco. Draco groaned, realising this was how the rest of the year was going to be. 

The Great Hall had somehow been restored to look like it previously did, with the enchanted ceiling and dim lights. Draco slipped in with the crowd and quietly took a seat at the end of the table.

"Are you going to be doing this all year?" Zabini asked him as he passed by.

"Do what?" Draco sneered.

"Keep trying to hide from people."

"Yes," Draco answered truthfully. "I have it all planned. Why do you care?"

Blaise shook his head, "I don't."

"Good," Draco said. "Then leave me alone."

Soon the first years were brought into the hall by a dark-haired woman that Draco failed to recognise. The Sorting Hat sang a cheerful song and began calling out names, and sorting the students one after the other. It lasted for a while, and Draco noticed glumly that Slytherin had lesser members than it usually did.

"Attention," said Professor McGonagall as she stood up once he Sorting was over. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, and to the first years, welcome to Hogwarts. There is a change in school staff this year, as one might expect. I am pleased to announce our new temporary Transfiguration teacher will be Professor Dedalus Diggle," a small man in mauve top hat stood up to applause, "and the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Hestia Jones," the dark-haired woman from earlier stood up to applause.

"Since I am now Headmistress, I will no longer be head of Gryffindor House. Instead, I have decided to appoint our Care of Magical Creatures Professor, Rubeus Hagrid, as the new head of Gryffindor House," Hagrid received the loudest applause yet, which was mostly from the Gryffindor table. Draco looked over to see Potter grinning at her giant friend and clapping proudly. 

"The Slytherin house too, will undergo a change in leadership," Professor McGonagall said, and Draco saw Potter's smile disappear in an instant. He himself felt his stomach drop - his favourite teacher was being replaced. "Professor Horace Slughorn will be the new Head of Slytherin house."

There was an applause from their table, but it didn't match the one that came from Gryffindor. Draco kept his eyes on Potter, who had suddenly found great interest in her fork, and was inspecting it closely.

"Now we may all enjoy the feast," McGonagall announced. 

Food suddenly appeared on their tables and everyone immediately dug into it. Draco could feel many eyes on him throughout the entire meal, and he self consciously ended up eating only a few morsels of food.

Draco ended up sharing a dormitory with Blaise, and two other sixth year boys. As Draco pulled the curtains around his bed that night, he heard Blaise making conversation with the boys. But Draco wasn't interested in knowing what they were whispering about, and instead opted to go to sleep. 

Sleep did not come quickly, as images of dead bodies he'd seen lying around the castle after the war flashed behind his eyelids. He only went to sleep after hours of tossing and turning and muttering incoherent nothings to himself.

Within the first week of school, seventh-year students were handed more assignments and practice work than ever before. But unlike other students, Draco was glad about it. His days were now consumed by studying, leaving him little to no time alone with his thoughts.

Whispers continued to follow him wherever he went, and Nott and his new posse had begun to ridicule him every time he walked into the common room. It was all getting to him, affecting him in a way he never thought possible.

On his eighth day back, he woke up with a start as his nightmare came to a violent end. He looked around the room and realised that it was empty, meaning he was late. He checked his watch to see that breakfast had already begun, and there was no chance he would ever make it in time.

He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, realising that his limbs were tangled in the sheets. That took a while to sort out, and when that was done, he lazily carried himself to the bathroom. After a long, warm shower he took a little longer than necessary to dry himself and put on his uniform. He wore his tie with precision like his father had taught him when he was younger. Draco wasn't a prefect this year, so that was one less thing to worry about. He remembered what Potter had said about Granger and Weasley being head girl and boy, and thought it was odd. The least the school could do for Potter after all she'd done was make her the bloody head girl. She'd make a good one too - she was a natural at stopping bullies and helping the weak. But then again, she did tend to break a lot of rules.

He always saw her in classes, but other than that, she was almost invisible. Draco realised that the only reason he constantly saw her during their earlier years of schooling was Quidditch and when they got into arguments. But now she wasn't interested in either of those two things, so there was no sight of her.

Draco checked his schedule for the day and decided to directly head to the first class for the day. He had Potions with the Gryffindors first, so he headed to Slughorn's classroom. It was empty when he entered, and Draco chose a seat at the back of the classroom in the shadows. He extracted his textbook from his bag and began flipping through it. It wasn't much later that the classroom slowly started filling up with people. Draco did not recognize most of them, seeing as they were all a year younger than him.  The desk next to him was occupied by two Gryffindors who sat as far away from him as possible.

Slughorn began the class soon after, as he began giving instructions about a nightmare potion. Draco partially paid attention to him, while half his attention was on the Gryffindor side of the classroom. He saw Weasley and Granger sitting together, while Potter was nowhere to be seen. Draco tried to get himself to look away, but he was burning with curiosity.

At that moment, the doors to the classroom were thrown open as Potter made a very Potter-like grand entrance. The younger students looked excited to see her, as they whispered among themselves. Draco rolled his eyes.

While her entrance had been grand, she looked anything but that. Judging by her untidy clothes, dishevelled hair and the very embarrassed expression on her face, anyone could tell she had overslept on their first day back.

"I'm extremely sorry, Professor," Potter said unsteadily but managed to give him a convincing smile. "I promise I won't be late again."

Slughorn didn't need much apologising from her, and let her off the hook almost immediately. He allowed her to take a seat without taking off any points. 

Potter looked around the classroom, trying to find her friends. When she saw the seats next to them occupied, her eyes tried to find a seat in the majorly occupied classroom. A group of younger girls tried to get her attention, but she skillfully avoided them, instead of moving towards the back where Draco was sitting.

"Do you mind?" she asked him meekly, pointing to the unoccupied seat next to him, looking as if she expected him to say no after what happened the previous day.

Draco shook his head. "Go ahead," he said, ignoring the looks the two Gryffindors were sending them.

Potter pulled the stool beside him and settled down.

"Don't want to sit next to your little group of admirers?" Draco asked.

"I would have, since - you know, it helps my ego," she replied lightly, "But I know you're next best in Potions after Hermione, and I need a good grade for my chosen career path."

Draco huffed, "You're here to use me again, Potter? Like you did on the train"

She stayed silent, her eyes were trained on Slughorn, who was writing instructions on the board. 

"They're my friends, what did you expect?" she answered stiffly. "Besides, I didn't mean to use you."

She was right, Draco knew that.

"So, what is your chosen career path, anyway?" he asked lightly, trying to steer the conversation. "Professional scarhead?"

She looked at him, amused.

"I'm not sure if that was an attempt at a joke or just a poor insult," she said.

"That was an insult," Draco clarified. "And it was not poor."

"Well, in that case, you can become a professional bludgerhead," she smiled sarcastically, and then dropped her head on her arms which were folded on the desk.

Draco smiled at her choice of insult and went back to writing notes. Once they were done, Slughorn asked them to start working on the potion.

"Go get these," Potter ordered, handing him a list of ingredients.

Draco glanced at back at the supplies closet, where a flock of people had gathered. There was no way he was going there.

"Why should I?" Draco said defiantly.

"Are we really going to argue about who goes to the cupboard?" she asked tiredly.

"No," Draco said. "There will be no argument, because you're going, and that's final."

Potter stopped arranging the flasks and looked up at him with a weird expression. She then looked at the supplies cupboard and once again, back at him.

"Fine," she muttered. She snatched the list from Draco's hand and left with a solid 'Humph!

"Hey Malfoy!"

Draco turned to look at the boy that had called him out. He was tall but had a baby face which was contorted into an expression that was supposed to be intimidating.

"Yes?" Draco drawled, using his bored tone.

"How's that Death Eater father of yours?" the boy sneered, and the girl beside him smirked. "Probably doing great now that he's out of jail, where he truly belongs."

"Of course he is, that coward," the girl said. "And your mother - Merlin, I doubt she has any integrity whatsoever. Tell me Malfoy, does she still look just as hideous?"

"Must be nightmarish living with them, not that you're any better."

Draco continued ignoring them and instead arranged the potions equipment that Potter had abandoned halfway. She was back only a few minutes later, looking irate and muttering something under her breath. The two Gryffindors turned away once they noticed her returning.

"What's got your wand in a knot, Potter?"

"Adam Borges," she said, laying out the ingredients in her arm on the table. "He pushed me aside and snatched the better looking _frog brain_ before I could take it."

Draco studied the one she had brought, "We can work with this."

"We'll have to," Potter said. "So, how are we going to do this? We have thirty minutes but we'll probably spend at least ten minutes arguing. Which leaves us with twenty."

"We could take turns with brewing and reading off instructions," Draco suggested.

She seemed satisfied with the plan and offered to read instructions first. They worked in silence, and Draco realised that Potter had a rather calm voice, now that she wasn't yelling at him. He constantly felt her eyes on him, making him mess up once, which was very rare for him since Potions was his best subject.

They soon switched places, and Potter continued chopping up the _Chinese Chomping Cabbage_ from where Draco had left. Her movements were surprisingly agile and her face was mesmerising as she frowned in concentration. Draco scolded himself for paying attention to her face rather than her average at best potion making skills. He corrected her once when she was about to add extra _Pearl Dust_ , and waited in anticipation of a glare or a snarky remark. But Potter simply corrected herself, muttered an embarrassed 'sorry' and continued working on the potion. Draco corrected her on a few more instances, and was pleasantly surprised when she took his advice positively. Draco felt relieved to know that she was a reasonable person, and didn't take positive criticism personally. Then again, he thought, she had probably become immune to it after spending seven years in constant company of a know-it-all.

"Rotate it three times," Draco said, and then added quickly, "Counter-clockwise."

She did as he told her, and soon, their potion was almost done.

"We have to let it heat for five minutes before we can add _Bulbadox Juice_ and then we'll be done," Draco said.

"Earlier than expected too." Contrary to what Potter had said earlier, they hadn't argued for even a minute.

Draco quickly performed a heating spell, and placed a lid on the flask to prevent any steam from escaping.

"Your wand seems fine," Potter commented.

"As good as ever," Draco said. "You wouldn't guess it has a second master."

"I think it truly only likes you," Potter said, "It served me simply because it had to."

"It's a very hard wand to master," Draco said arrogantly, "Only a wizard of proven talent can control it."

"And a wizard with a confusing and paradoxical nature," Potter added.

"That's irrelevant."

"No it's not," she said, "That is an accurate description of you. You're a walking, talking paradox, Malfoy."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are," she countered, "Think about it - you were confused this past year. Most people knew what they wanted, what side they were one. But you remained confused between the side that truly was right and the side your parents always taught you was right. One moment you were helping me, and the next moment-"

"You've made your point, Potter," Draco sneered, "I'm not having this conversation with _you_."

He was afraid; afraid of the fact that she had so easily summed up everything that he had felt in a few sentences. But then again, she hadn't. She hadn't summed up _everything_ he had felt. There were things he had felt that he himself couldn't quite explain, and he wanted to keep it that way. He didn't want Potter spelling that out for him. This was personal, and he didn't want anyone looking on into his feelings. Not even her.

"Right," she said softly. "Sorry."

Draco nodded and decided to check on the potion. It had heated up well, so he added six drops of _Bulbadox Juice_ , making the potion turn a darker colour. Pretty soon it was a midnight blue shade, and smelled just like their textbook said it would.

"What do you think?" Potter asked softly, leaning in beside him. "Does it look okay?"

"It turned out good," Draco said.

"You sound surprised," Potter said, raising her eyebrows.

"I am," Draco said, "Don't take it personally, but you aren't exactly the best potion-maker around."

"Excuse me," Potter said, narrowing her eyes, "In case you're forgetting, let me remind you. I beat the entire class in sixth year and won the Felix Felicis."

"Yeah, about that," Draco said, "I still haven't figured out how you managed to cheat."

"I did not cheat!" she protested.

"Oh please," Draco said dramatically. "One look at Granger's face and I could tell you'd done something wrong."

Her cheeks turned red and she narrowed her eyes.

"Stop smiling," she sneered.

"I'm not smiling," Draco said, but continued smiling. Suddenly, Draco realised that they both made a good team, which made him smile even more. 

And that was only confirmed when Slughorn came to their table. The moment his eyes landed on their potion, his face shone with joy as he took in the perfect colour of it.

"Brilliant!" he exclaimed happily, stirring the potion around while inspecting it closely. "This potion is excellent!"

Draco's delight soon turned into dread as the entire class turned to look at them. Many of them noticed for the first time that Potter was sitting next to him, and they stared with curious eyes.

"Ten points to Gryffindor for your excellent work, Ms Potter," he said, looking at Potter with admiration.

Potter smiled and looked at him expectantly, but Draco knew she was going to be disappointed. He knew exactly what was happening. When Slughorn made a move to walk over to the next table, her smile dropped as realisation dawned on her. The Professor was ignoring Draco.

Potter looked furious as she whispered harshly, "He just pretended like you weren't there!"

Draco sighed, "I noticed."

"That's not fair!" she said.

"Not everything in life is fair," Draco snapped, "You should know that by now."

She held his gaze for a moment, before looking away. Draco immediately felt bad for snapping at her; she was only trying to help.

The light environment they'd managed to maintain had been replaced with a tense silence. Potter was slowly packing away her things, not talking or meeting his gaze. Soon the table was clear, with the only things in front of them being the flask of the potion they'd prepared.

"I can test it tonight," Draco said, without comprehending what he was saying. "I'll tell you if it works."

"I can test it too."

"You have nightmares?" Draco asked.

"Do you?" Potter asked right back.

They both stared at each other fiercely, before Potter looked away.

"Let's divide it, there's enough for two," she offered, producing two glass vials from her school bag. "We'll both see how it works."

Draco nodded. It seemed fair.

Potter carefully poured the potion in the two tiny vials, making sure she did not spill anything. 

"Those nightmares - about the war?" she asked casually, not taking her eyes away from the potion.

"Few of them."

She nodded, as she sealed the vials, labelled them neatly and dropped one of it in Draco's open palm.

"I hope it works then," she said.

When the bell rang, Weasley called out her name loudly, and Potter gave Draco a wave before she walked away to her friends. Draco closed his fist around the tiny vial in his hand as he himself grabbed his bag and waited for everyone to leave before he left classroom himself.

"See you around Malfoy," the girl from the next table said. "Try not to cause any trouble - Potter might not be able to save you again."

The rest of the day was quite uneventful if Draco excluded the number of people that had given him disgusted looks. He was used to getting them since he was a child, getting looks came with being a Malfoy, but this was different. These people were looking at him not because he was a school bully or a Malfoy, but because he had been a part of the group of people that conspired against them. This was bigger, and it hurt.

Draco sat alone in most of his classes; except in DADA, where he was forced to pair up with a Hufflepuff to practice the Levicorpus Hex. The girl had looked terrified, and her attempts at the spell were half-hearted, as she wore a look that suggested she was expecting him to snap her neck any minute. It was getting frustrating now, how obviously terrified she was of him. After a while, they completely gave up practising. Never in a million years would he admit it to himself, but Draco wished Potter had decided to pair with him again instead of the Weaseltte.

His last class of the day was Ancient Runes, which was comforting since it consisted of less than ten students. It was the only class Draco didn't share with Potter, as she was only taking five NEWT classes as opposed to his six. The only person he recognised in the class was Granger, who once again gave him a tentative nod as she sat on the desk in beside him. After hours of having people glare and snicker at him, it was a relief to see someone react positively to him, even if it was Granger. 

The class went peacefully, with Professor Babbling dictating a translation in her soft voice. Draco, out of habit, noted down every word she spoke. As she launched into an explanation of one of the verses they were translating, he saw Granger frantically glancing between Spellman's Syllabary and the piece of parchment with her notes on it.

"If you're looking for the symbols in line four," Draco began quietly, keeping his eyes on the Professor, "You'll find them on page hundred and sixty-two and page eighty-four."

There was nothing wrong with trying to mend relationships. He was older now, and more mature. Besides, if he didn't do this now, he knew he would never get another chance

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Granger looking at him, and then turning to the book. After a few seconds of shuffling books and scratching something onto her parchment, he heard her say, "Thank you."

Draco nodded.

When class was over, he once again waited for the class to clear up before leaving. Avoiding every glance and word that was directed towards him, he walked to the library. He found a table in the back, where he was sure not many people visited. Throwing his bag on the table, he walked around the area, scanning for books until he found something good to read for the time being.

He spent a few hours there before heading for dinner, where once again, he sat alone.

That night, he went to bed early, in anticipation of trying out the potion he and Potter had made. After drawing the curtains around himself, he popped open the vial and downed it's dark blue contents.

While he didn't manage to fall asleep immediately, he did experience the first dreamless sleep in ages. He woke up on time the next morning and even had breakfast, feeling a little better about everything. Until that morning, he hadn't realised how much his lack of sleep had been weighing him down.

Maybe it was his good mood or maybe he was just tired, but he made a decision to stop listening to all the remarks made about him. He needed to flip this situation over, he couldn't live his entire life like that.

Potter missed potions that day, but in DADA when they were asked to form pairs, he saw her walking towards him. Draco noticed Weaseltte had paired up with another Gryffindor, and that was probably the only reason Potter was choosing him. He didn't mind much; something was better than nothing.

"So, the potion worked for you, huh?" she asked, standing beside him.

"Yes," he replied, "how could you tell?"

She shrugged, "You look a little less dead today."

"Thanks," Draco said sarcastically. "Judging by your mood, it obviously didn't work for you."

"I actually forgot to take it," she said with a sheepish look. 

Draco shook his head and muttered, "Genius."

She rolled her eyes, but said solemnly, "It's not a big deal - Hermione's usually there for me... when it gets too much.."

"Lucky you, Potter," Draco said bitterly, "You have friends that know how to be friends."

She nodded, "I really am. I've noticed you're not though..."

Draco understood she was prompting him, expecting him to say something, but he didn't want to. He was still a bit distressed with the knowledge that his friends would easily throw him under a troll to protect their reputation.

"I'm not about to have a heart to heart conversation with you, Potter," Draco said.

"I wasn't expecting you to," she replied. "But I think you should have this..."

Draco saw her holding out the second vial of the nightmare potion towards him.

"But it's yours."

"You probably need it more than I do at the moment," she said, "And you were the one who accurately made it in the first place-"

"But Potter-"

"Just keep it," she said with finality, "It's not that big of a deal, it's just a matter of one night. Besides, I mostly just took it from you yesterday out of habit. You said you'd test it out, and I couldn't let you do what you wanted because I was angry with you."

Draco gave her a look, but took it from her and slipped it into his pocket.

"So, have you tried the Levicorpus hex successfully before?" he asked her.

She nodded, "Sixth year, on Ron. Ah, such a beautiful memory of him hanging upside down in the common room."

Draco raised his eyebrows.

"He thought it was funny too," she said defensively. "Besides, I didn't know what that spell did at the time."

Draco noticed her voice falter a bit, and she looked away with a guilty expression. He remembered she'd said the same thing to him, after the incident in the bathroom in sixth year.

"We should, uh, start practising," she said, clearing her throat.

Draco gave her a suspicious look, but agreed nonetheless.

Just like she'd told him earlier, she managed to have him hanging upside down within her first attempt. As average as she was at Potions, she was exceptional at DADA. Initially, she refused to let him down and left him red-faced in the air, enjoying a good laugh at his expense. But after Professor Jones scolded her and asked her to let him down, she did so, but opted for an unconventional method rather than the intended charm, leading to Draco experiencing a harsh landing.

When it was his turn to try the hex on her, she anxiously held her skirt at her knees to keep it from flipping over. With Potter's help, Draco got the spell right on his seventh attempt. He left her hanging in the air, yelling at him for a few seconds before using the Liberacorpus Charm and letting her down slowly. Her face was red and she looked slightly mad.

"I told you to put me down!" she complained, straightening her skirt.

"But you had me up for longer, so it only seemed fair that I did the same to you," Draco argued.

"That was different!" she said. "You deserved it."

"Oh really?" Draco asked, "And why did I deserve to be hung upside down in the air for five minutes?"

"Because - Because -" she said, struggling to come up with something, "Because of those stupid badges you made in fourth year."

"But that was four years ago!"

"It did happen though!"

"Only because that Professor made me a rat because of you!"

"He didn't make you a rat because of me," Potter argued. "He made you a rat because you were about to attack me!"

"I was not going to attack you," Draco defended, "I was only going to threaten you."

"As if that's any better!"

"What's going on back there?" Professor Jones asked, eyeing the two of them suspiciously. "Do I need to come there again, Ms Potter?"

"No, Professor," Potter replied quickly.

Draco and her glanced at each other warily, before she said, "Those badges were dumb, just so you know."

"I already knew that" Draco replied, "I regretted ever making them the second I saw you wearing one of them."

"Really?"

Draco nodded. 

She looked surprised, "Huh. Guess you weren't a total jerk then?"

"I was," he sighed, "I didn't apologise."

"That's true," she agreed, "But just the fact that you felt bad about it means something. And you're telling me now, aren't you? Better late than never."

If that was really the case, Draco had a list of things he had to confess to feeling guilty about.

"Hey, Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember that day in the Ministry - when I told you how we should go back to being enemies?"

"Yes?"

"I take that back," Draco admitted, "I'm okay with this too - whatever it is."

She looked at him with her eyebrows raised. "Are - are you suggesting we... make amends?"

Draco shrugged, "If you want to?"

"Uh, yeah - okay," Potter said as she nodded slowly, but still looked surprised.  "We could try."

"Great."

That was more than he had hoped for.


	5. lacerate

It was a few days later, on a Saturday afternoon when Draco was sitting in his usual secluded place in the library, that he saw a very familiar person struggling to carry four enormous books. Draco looked at Potter in amusement as she struggled to carry the books in her arms and push her glasses, that had slid down her nose at the same time. 

"Need any help?" he asked.

"Oh, it's you," she said, peering at him from over the books. She walked over to him and dropped the books on his table with a slam. "Bloody hell, that almost trampled me."

While the two of them hadn't suddenly become best mates overnight, Draco found that if they tried, it wasn't too hard for them to get along. Potter sometimes sat with him in classes (much to Weasley's chagrin) and they even managed to go through lessons without bringing up one of their many unresolved childhood disputes. The only way he could describe their relationship was... friendly. Not quite friends, but slowly getting there.

Draco glanced at the books on the desk and noticed that they were all on the same topic.

"Metamorphmagus?" he asked, pulling a book closer to him and flipping it open.

"Hmm," Potter said, pulling out the chair across from him. "My godson is one. I got a letter from his Grandmother saying he's somehow managed to turn his face into mine and hasn't changed it back for the past two days. What's weird is he's just a year old! Even his mother couldn't change her facial features until her preteens."

"Who's your godson?" Draco asked her.

"Teddy Lupin," she said with a small smile. 

Draco immediately knew she was talking about Remus Lupin's son, and considering both him and his wife died in the war, Draco realised the boy was an orphan.

"I didn't know you were his Godmother," Draco said.

"I am," Potter replied with a hint of pride that Draco failed to understand. "Lupin thought it was for the best, in case anything happened to him and Tonks... well, he knew I'd understand Teddy the best."

She looked nostalgic, and her eyes were glazed over.

"I'm not sure you'll find what you're looking for," Draco said quickly, changing the subject, "As far as I know, a Metamorphmagus can only change and then undo their appearance themselves. His grandmother will have to live with the horror of seeing your face every day."

"Shut up."

"Maybe he's just missing you?" Draco suggested, and to his surprise, Potter smiled.

"If he is, that's a very creative way of showing it," she said fondly. She stared at him for a second, before saying in a teasing tone, "You do know you're his second cousin, right?"

Draco hurriedly turned his gaze back to his book. He heard her snicker slightly before she too opened one of the books before her.

"I think I told you're not going to find anything in there," he repeated.

"I still want to know as much about him as I can," she replied with a shrug.

They both spent the next few hours doing their own individual things in silence. Draco enjoyed it better than being alone. There was something calming about her presence that he hadn't noticed before. 

When it was evening, Potter suddenly got up with a start. 

"I have to be at the Quidditch tryouts," she said, "I promised Ginny I'd help her with the selecting."

She quickly put all the books back in their places and returned to the table to get her bag.

"I'll be here tomorrow, too," Draco said. He wasn't sure why or how he said it, but he did. He never thought he'd be brave enough to voluntarily invite Potter to spend time with him, even if it was just for studying.

"Good," she said, "Because I expect you to let me, er, _refer_ your Potions homework."

"You mean you want to copy it?" Draco asked, trying not to look too happy about her answer.

"Same thing, Malfoy," she said, before walking away.

The next day couldn't have come sooner, and Draco found himself walking to the library early the next morning. He hadn't gotten too far when he bumped into someone. 

Draco immediately recognised the person as the boy from his Potions class, and behind him was a group of Gryffindors. Draco sighed internally, knowing they were only going to fuel his already destructive conscience.

"Look who it is guys," the boy said mockingly, "Hogwart's very own Death Eater."

Draco rolled his eyes and attempted to move past the group, but they blocked him. 

"Where do you think you're going?" the boy sneered, and Draco was reminded of the numerous times he'd used that line on others. Karma was getting to him.

"We've been wondering, why'd you come back?" a blonde boy asked.

The brunette next to him raised her eyebrows at Draco and said, "Is it to finish off some Death Eater business? Everyone's been saying your family is trying to bring You-Know-Who back."

Draco did not bother replying, instead trying to think of a way to get out of the situation.

"It is, isn't it?" the girl gasped. "We knew it! What are you going to do? Let the Death Eaters into the castle once again?"

"Oh no, Amber," the blonde said, "What if he's going to try to kill Potter? Finish off what his Master couldn't?"

That did it for Draco, because he looked up at them with a threatening glare, and said, "I'm not trying to kill her!"

"Why are you being all friendly with her then?" the boy sneered, "You hated her until a few months ago. But now suddenly, you're sitting next to her in classes. Why else would you do that?"

"I don't have to tell you anything," Draco said, "You know nothing about me or even Potter for that matter."

"We know enough to realise that you're taking advantage of her," the girl sneered again.

"I'm not forcing her to talk to me," Draco deadpanned, "She's doing it of her own free will, in case you haven't noticed."

He gripped his wand in his pocket.

"But you're manipulating her," the girl said.

"I doubt Potter is one to be easily manipulated," Draco said with a humourless laugh, "Trust me, I would know."

"That means you did try!" the girl said gleefully. Draco groaned as he realised he misspoke.

"What's going on here?"

It was Potter. She was standing behind the group, eyeing the four of them suspiciously.

"Oh, hi Rose," the blonde boy said with a smile.

"Hello Sebastian," she said a little hesitantly. "What were you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing," the girl, Amber, replied quickly. She then glanced at Draco before saying, "You should be careful about the company you keep, Rose."

Potter gave Draco a questioning look, before glancing back at her housemates, "Are you referring to Malfoy?"

"Uh, yes," _Sebastian_ said, "Who else would we be talking about?"

"You should be around normal people," the third boy said, "Especially in your condition."

"My-my condition?" Potter asked with a frown.

The group exchanged knowing glances, before the girl said, "Uh, we have to be somewhere. But uh, take care, Rose. Don't stress yourself too much."

When they left, Potter looked at Draco puzzled.

"What was that about?"

"I'm not sure," he said, "But I think I have a fair idea."

"What's that?"

"I'll tell you once I'm sure."

"You sound like Hermione," Potter commented, and Draco glared at her.

They walked to the library together, where Draco picked up a copy of Witch Weekly from the magazine stand.

"Never thought of you as someone who concerned themselves with mindless gossip," she said.

"I usually don't," Draco said, "But I have a feeling we're soon going to find out what those people were talking about back there."

He was right. He did find things in the magazine that he was sure would infuriate Potter.

"This is atrocious!" he muttered. "The things they've written about you - it's worse than what they've written about me!"

"You'd think being the Saviour of the Wizarding World would get you a ticket out of this idiocy," she muttered, before saying, "Just out of curiosity, what are they saying about you?"

"That I'm trying to resurrect the Dark Lord once again," he said with a sigh.

"Nice. Good luck with that," Potter muttered sarcastically, flipping through her textbook, "Now I really want to know what it says about me."

"I don't that's a good idea..."

"Malfoy."

"Fine," Draco said, and looked at her as he began carefully, "It says that... you're mentally unstable after everything that has happened... And that you're a threat to the people around you..."

"Why does that sound so familiar?" she muttered, snatching the paper from. Her eyes widened and then an annoyed looked crossed her face, "Bloody Skeeter's back at it again."

"You mean Rita Skeeter?"

"Who else?" she said, turning over the pages, "I'm going to borrow this - wait till 'mione gets a look at it. Skeeter's got it coming this time."

"You think Granger can stop her?"

"I _know_ she can," Potter said, "She's done it before."

Once Potter was done ranting about how much she hated Skeeter, the two of them started working on potions. They had to write a two feet essay on the nightmare potion, so they spent the morning researching on it. It was already lunchtime by the time they were done, and Potter looked as exhausted as he felt.

"Want to walk to lunch?" she offered.

Draco raised his eyebrows, "You want to be seen with me?"

"I'm beyond the point of caring about trivial things like that," she said, "I make my own decisions."

Draco smirked. "Of course you do, Potter," he said.

They packed and left, with Potter slipping the copy of Witch Weekly in her bag. As they walked through corridors, Draco watched her out of the corner of his eyes - how the sun reflected on her glasses, how the corners of her lips were naturally upturned.

"Bloody hell," she muttered, suddenly coming to her stop. Draco was broken out of his trance-like state, and he noticed her eyes were fixed ahead of her. Draco looked to see what she was staring at, and immediately wished he hadn't.

Granger and Weasley were snogging rather furiously in the abandoned corridor, having no knowledge of the other two watching them. Potter grabbed his arm and pulled him back in the direction they had come from. Draco shook his head to erase that sight from his memory.

"So this is what they do when they tell me they have to fulfil their school heads duties," Potter said with a look of amusement mixed with disgust.

"I could have lived without seeing that," Draco muttered.

"Me too," Potter admitted, "They're usually careful with all that when I'm around, they know I still find it a little awkward. Trust me, I couldn't be happier for them, but after so many years of seeing them arguing over the stupidest of things, it's weird to suddenly see them doing... _that_."

"It's not that weird if you think about it," Draco said, as they took a different route to the Great Hall.

"You wouldn't understand what I'm talking about," she said, "You haven't lived with them for seven years; I have."

"But I do understand," he said, "We fought for seven years over the stupidest things, now we're fr- _civil_ with each other."

"That's different," she reasoned, "We never argued over some stupid rat that wasn't even a rat in the first place."

"No," Draco agreed, "But we did argue over flobberworms once. Which in a way is worse than arguing over, as you put it, a rat that wasn't even a rat."

She rolled her eyes and then lifted her left shoulder lazily, "Whatever you say, Malfoy."

When they reached the Great Hall, they separated and headed to their respective tables. Draco ignored the dirty looks his housemates were giving him and sat down at the table. He had noticed in the past week that people were not taking well to Potter and his newfound acquaintanceship. Whenever they sat together in classes, they got looks of disapproval, which Potter did a good job of ignoring. 

"Just when I thought he couldn't sink any lower, he becomes pals with Potter," Nott sneered, and Draco heard Daphne Greengrass snicker. He found it hard to believe that just over a year ago, she would have done anything to go to Hogsmeade with him. But now, she looked more than happy hanging off Nott's arm. Draco knew that when it came to this, him fancying Potter was a blessing in disguise. It had prevented him from going after one of the girls from his house all these years. Except, of course, those two disastrous occasions on which he'd given into Parkinson's advances and snogged her. He still had nightmares about that.

After lunch, Draco walked to the Owlery. From the tower, he could see everyone roaming around the school in groups and pairs, seeing as it was a Sunday. Draco quickly went over to one of the windows and began writing a reply to the letter he had received that morning.

**_Dear Mum,_ **

**_I'm doing well. I really am. You don't have to worry so much, I can take care of myself now._  **

**_School is going well, too. I've got lot's of studying to do for our NEWTs, but nothing I can't deal with. I'm still enjoying potions, but it's not the same without Professor Snape._ **

**_Quidditch season will be starting soon, so that'll keep me busy._ _The Slytherin team is stronger that ever this year, so I'm pretty sure we're going to beat Gryffindor for House Cup._**

**_The people aren't as bad as you'd think they would be. Besides, I have Zabini and the others with me, so it's easier to ignore all the ridicule._  **

**_Hope you and father are doing well. Write back soon._ **

**- _Draco_**

He felt guilty about lying to her, but he knew it was for the best. He did not need his mother worrying about him again, she'd done enough of that the previous year. 

He tied the letter to his eagle owl, _Aspen_ and let him out, but only after giving him a treat.

On his way back to the dungeons, Draco's eyes wandered over to the Black Lake. He noticed that there was no one around, and decided to go over for a much-needed walk to freshen his mind.

It was when he was walking along the shore that it happened. One second he was looking at the giant squid that was lounging at the edge of the lake, and the next minute he felt a sharp pain in his left forearm and then everything had turned black.

Draco opened his eyes to see the ceiling of the hospital wing. It wasn't much different than the last time he'd woken up there, blearily looking around, trying to remember what had put him there. Except for the fact that he couldn't. He couldn't remember what had happened to put him there. So, he sat.

He groaned as he felt a numbing pain in his left arm and looked to see that it was wrapped up in white bandages, with small patches of blood seeping through it.

_What had happened to him?_

It wasn't long after that Madam Pomfrey bustled out of her office and smiled at him kindly.

"How are you feeling now, dear?"

Draco nodded, unsure of what was going on.

"What happened?" His voice sounded unfamiliar, making him clear his throat. 

The nurse gave forced a smile as she said, "I was hoping you could tell me that."

"I don't exactly remember..." Draco began, "I was just near the lake and then my arm felt like it was on fire and... and then I don't remember anything..."

"Mr Malfoy, someone hexed your arm to make it bleed... strong magic....very difficult to heal..." Madam Pomfrey said nervously, "A cruel joke of some sort, it might seem."

Draco understood what she meant. He looked away and  blinked rapidly.

"How long have I been here?" he asked with a throaty voice.

"It's Monday afternoon now."

That wasn't too bad. He'd only been here for a day.

"Who brought me here?"

"It was a student," Madam Pomfrey replied, "I didn't quite catch his name, but he was from your house."

Draco nodded.

"You should take your potion, dear," the woman said, "You need some more rest. A lot of blood was lost."

Draco nodded numbly once again and downed the potion he was given. 

Once the nurse left, he slumped back down on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut, finally letting himself cry about anything and everything that he'd been trying to repress. 

 _Malfoys don't cry_ , his father had always told him. _Malfoys don't show emotions to anyone but their own. Malfoys don't associate themselves with anyone less than a pureblood. Malfoys don't maintain friendships with anyone but other Slytherins_.

He wanted to hate his father for teaching him all the things that he did. But he knew he was the only one to blame. He didn't have to preach and practise everything his father had told him, but he still did.

He was the one to blame for what was happening to him. How people were treating him. What everyone thought of him. He was the only one responsible.

He fell asleep with his cheeks wet and fingers harshly gripping the hospital bedsheet.

When he woke up again, he heard whispers coming from somewhere close. Two female voices, both of which he failed to recognise in his drugged state.

"Mr Malfoy is currently asleep, Ms Potter. You'll have to come to visit him another time," one voice said, and Draco's eyes opened at that. Suddenly, he didn't feel as dazed anymore.

"Oh come on Poppy," he heard Potter's voice say, "It'll just take a few minutes. I'm sure he'll kick me out himself before you get the chance."

"Ms. Potter! Do not call me Poppy!" Madam Pomfrey scolded, "Now, I'm not going to tell you again. You have to leave- Ms Potter! What are you doing? Ms Potter!"

The curtain around his bed was suddenly yanked apart, and there stood Potter, with a distressed looking Madam Pomfrey behind her.

"See, Poppy? Told you he'd be awake!" Potter said triumphantly, earning a look of disapproval from the older woman.

"Ms. Potter-"

"Please, Madam Pomfrey?" Potter said, now a bit more solemnly, "This is really important."

Madam Pomfrey looked at Draco.

"Let her stay," he said.

She pursed her lips and said stiffly, "Fine. But you will only get twenty minutes."

"Brilliant," Potter said, and the nurse huffed and walked back towards her office.

"I was going to come sooner," Potter said as she sat down beside Draco's bed, looking everywhere but at him, "but Hermione wouldn't let me skip classes. Oh, that reminds me, I have your work with me - everything you missed out on today. A new charm, a new hex in DADA, some recipes in Potions... oh, we just watered the _Bolean Sneezewort_ in Herbology and I'm not sure what happened in Ancient Runes, but 'mione said something about translating a _Speuplash_ verse? Whatever that means, I never took Runes..."

She trailed off. Her shoulders were tense as she stared at the floor tiles before she looked at him warily.

"Who do you think did this?"

"Could have been anyone. Not many people like me at the moment."

She rubbed her forehead with her index finger and thumb, and then sighed.

"What kind of a person would play a joke like this?" she hissed, "Who in their right mind would do something like this?"

"Well, you've done it before."

She stared at him in shock for a second before shaking her head.

"Potter-"

"No, you're right," she whispered in a contrite tone. "I have no right to say any of those things when I myself have done this before."

"Potter-"

"Don't," she warned, "Nothing you've got to say will justify my actions."

Draco knew there was nothing he could say that would change her mind now. But he had to try.

"I don't blame you," Draco said, "And even if I did, I have forgiven you."

She shook her head. "How can you possi-"

"Just like you forgave me for everything," Draco said, getting a little annoyed of her constant self-criticism. He was hurting physically and emotionally, and the last thing he needed was to feel guilty about making Potter upset again.

She frowned, "That's different."

"No it's not," he spat, "It's the same Potter, so will you just please shut up? You're not always right!"

She did shut up, and Draco looked away, shutting his eyes to calm himself down. For a few seconds, the only thing he could hear was his breathing. Then suddenly, he felt fingers on his left hand gently turning it over. Draco opened his eyes and watched carefully as Potter examined his forearm with furrowed eyebrows.

"They hexed my Dark Mark."

Potter looked at him in surprise. They'd never mentioned anything even remotely related to Voldemort in their past conversations. It was a taboo subject and they did their best to stay away from it.

"It seems right, doesn't it?" Draco said, "To make the mark that is responsible for so many deaths bleed?"

She looked horrified at his words. And why wouldn't she be? She'd never heard his real thoughts before; no one had.

"No, it's not," she said firmly, "These marks don't mean anything anymore. Not mine - not yours. Their significance died with the man who gave them to us."

She had a determined looked on her face, and Draco wondered how even after everything, she still managed to pull through with such a strong resolve.

"People hate me enough to do this to me," Draco muttered, not believing he was actually voicing his thoughts out to Potter.

"I thought you didn't care about what people thought, Malfoy," Potter said with an amused look.

Draco smiled forlornly.

"Can I ask you something?"

She raised an eyebrow and nodded, "Yes you can, but I can't promise an answer."

"When we were eleven," Draco began, "And we met in Diagon Alley before Hogwarts, why did you hate me so much?"

Her expression darkened and Draco could practically see her brain deciding whether to answer him or not.

She finally said, "You reminded me of my cousin, and I never got along with him."

Draco could tell there was more to it, but he didn't want to push it, so he nodded.

"Why did you want to be my friend on the train?" she asked, "Your father hated me."

"He did," Draco said, "but my mother didn't. She'd told me all about the brave little girl who vanquished the Dark Lord. I'd always wanted to be friends with you, so I tried. That was probably the only time I ever disregarded my father's wishes and did something that I wanted to. And as you know, it didn't go too well..."

"It wasn't just about my cousin, you know?" Potter said hesitantly, "You also insulted the first friend I'd ever made that day."

"Who?" Draco asked, puzzled, "Neither of us had met Weasley at that point."

"I'm not talking about Ron," she said, "I meant Hagrid."

"He was the first friend you ever had?"

She nodded.

"What about the kids in the _muggle_ world?" Draco asked, "Weren't you friends with them?"

"Uh, no. I never got along with them. Umm, probably because I was different..." she replied slowly.

"Ms. Potter!" It was Madam Pomfrey again. "That's enough chit-chat! My patient needs to rest now!"

The playful look on Potter's face was back as she got up from her place beside his bed.

"Geez Poppy, calm down, I was just leaving," she smirked, and then turned to Draco, "I'll see you tomorrow with the rest of your classwork."

When she was gone, Madam Pomfrey sighed and muttered, "It's mad how much she acts like James sometimes. I can't decide if it's a good thing or bad."

Just as promised, Potter showed up every evening after classes with the day's work, and spent a few minutes with him, before getting kicked out by Madam Pomfrey. 

"So, guess what happened today?"

"I'm not a seer, Potter. I can't guess what happened today," Draco said tiredly. The white walls and sterile smell of the Hospital Wing were sucking the soul out of him. The only thing he did all day was study whatever notes Potter got for him (which he strongly suspected were Granger's, since he'd never seen Potter seriously take notes before), and then stare outside the window beside his bed.

"I got Nott three weeks of detention," she said.

"And how did you manage to do that?" he asked, amused at how proud she looked about what she'd done.

"He tried Levicorpus on a first year. He isn't even taking DADA, so he totally messed up," she said, "And I, as usual, happened to be in the right place at the right time. He has to serve detention with Slughorn for three weeks - imagine that."

Draco shook his head, "Did you get this excited every time you got me detention?"

"Usually more," she admitted sheepishly, "So, has anyone else visited you, or just me?"

"No," Draco said bitterly, "You know very well that I don't have many friends at the moment. Why would you even ask me that?"

"I wasn't referring to your friends," Potter said defensively, "I meant your mother - she must be worried."

Draco had specifically told Madam Pomfrey not to alert his family. He didn't want his mother worried.

"I haven't informed her of... these circumstances," Draco said.

Potter looked upset. "How could you not? She's your mother!"

"Yes, and I don't need her worrying about me," Draco said.

"But she deserves to know-"

"No, Potter," Draco said, "I've made my decision."

"Right," she said, and then she suddenly slapped her palm to her forehead, "I've uh, got to go. I promised to meet Ron in the common room after his practice. I'll see you tomorrow."

Draco knew, when his mother turned up at the Hospital Wing the next morning demanding to see her son, that he shouldn't have been too shocked. Of course, Potter would do something like this.

"Draco," Narcissa Malfoy gasped, falling into the chair beside his bed. "Oh Dragon, what happened to you?"

He could see she was trying not to cry and it broke his heart. 

"It was just a joke someone played, Mum," he explained, "You don't have to worry about his too much."

"A joke so harmful?" she demanded, "Draco, maybe you coming back was a bad idea. I thought coming back to school would be good for you, and these past few weeks you seemed so happy, so I thought..."

"Mum," Draco said, holding her face in his hands, "I am alright, I really am."

"But," she said softly, "Why would anyone do this?"

"You know why," Draco answered.

It took him a while, but he got her to calm down.

"You know you can come back home anytime you feel like it, right?" his mother said as she prepared to leave later in the afternoon.

"Yeah," Draco said, "I know."

She nodded, kissed his forehead and left after one last lingering look. Draco sighed. 

Potter was so dead.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he yelled at her that evening.

"Huh?" she asked dumbly.

"Why would you tell my mother about this?" he sneered.

"Oh that," she said looking unfazed by his anger, "I thought she had the right to know what happens to her son."

"You had no right to tell her. It was my decision! I didn't want my mother worrying about me over something like this!" Draco said, "But I wouldn't expect you to understand that because you-"

Draco stopped himself before he could say what he was about to.

"What?" Potter demanded with a cold smile, "Because my mother is dead? Is that what you were about to say?"

Draco looked away, knowing he couldn't defend himself. Old habits died hard.

"I don't know what she's told you, but that day in the Forbidden Forest when she saved me, your mother didn't do it for me," Potter said, and Draco moved to look at her.

"When I was lying there, half dead, she asked me only one thing - she asked me if you were alright. When I said you were, she lied to Riddle so that she would be allowed into the castle to see you. She did not lie to him for some noble cause, she did it for you," Potter said, her eyes narrowed dangerously and her face red. "And you're wrong, you know, you're all wrong. Everyone just assumes I don't understand what it's like to be worried about or to lose family because I've never had one! But I wouldn't expect anyone to understand this either because you don't value what you have until you've lost it. And when you lose it, it's too late. So take my advice and be honest with your mother - she deserves it."

"Potter-"

But she slammed the books in her hand on the table beside his bed and left without another glance.

Brilliant. Now he'd managed to upset the only person who'd been even remotely worried about him.

She did not turn up the next two days, and Draco felt more terrible than he had the past week. He realised how much he truly looked forward to seeing her every day and cursed himself for getting mad at her for simply trying to help him. He made a resolve to apologise to her the next time he saw her.

When Madam Pomfrey came in to check on his arm (which was now all healed) she looked at him suspiciously, and then at her clock in the centre of the room.

"Your friend is late today," she commented.

"I don't think she's coming," Draco said he watched her unwrap his bandages and start muttering a spell to heal the few smaller cuts that still remained around his Dark Mark. He was thankful about the fact that the nurse maintained her clinical demeanour and did not make a deal out of the mark.

"Why do you say that?"

"I said something that upset her," Draco said, "Something I shouldn't have said."

Madam Pomfrey tilted her head, "Well, it's a good thing that you're healed up then. You can go to Ms Potter and apologise in person."

"I can leave?" Draco asked, sitting up.

"Your arm's all healed up, Mr Malfoy," she said, "I don't see why not."

Draco sighed in relief.

He was discharged later that night, and he left the Hospital Wing immediately, but not before having a last word with the nurse.

"Thank you, Poppy," he'd said.

"Mr Malfoy!" The nurse scolded, but Draco was already out of there.

When he walked into the common room, all activities stopped as people stared at him silently. He rolled his eyes and stormed up to his dormitory. Zabini was there, lounging on his bed and immediately sat up when he saw Draco enter. However, paying no heed to his ex-friend's concerned glance, Draco grabbed some fresh clothes from his trunk and walked into the bathroom. After about an hour long refreshing shower, he walked back into the now empty dorm, and flopped down onto his bed, pulling the curtains around him. Everyone was probably at dinner, and while he was hungry, Draco wasn't brave enough to face so many people. The whole school probably knew he'd been in the Hospital Wing, and he didn't want to know how many of them thought he deserved it.

He ended up skipping breakfast the next morning too, instead choosing to visit the library to cover some of the work that Potter had left for him the previous day. Only after reading three pages of his Herbology textbook was he interrupted.

"You skipped breakfast. And dinner last night."

It was Potter, standing there with a tray full of food.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked in surprise.

"You answer my question first."

"Yes, I skipped meals," he replied.

Potter placed the tray on the table and pushed it towards it.

"Eat," she ordered.

Draco glanced at the food and then back at her. "I-I thought you were pissed off at me... since you didn't visit the past few days... which I wouldn't blame you for - what I said was wrong..."

"I am still a little mad at you," she said stiffly, "But that doesn't mean I was going to let to skip meals. Yet another thing people don't appreciate enough - food."

She huffed and sat down across from him, while Draco picked up a toast and started to butter it.

"I'm er, sorry about what I said, Potter," Draco managed to say, "I was angry because my mother got upset after seeing me like that and - and I said those things to you."

"It's alright, I figured you said it in the heat of the moment," she said with a careless shrug, and then muttered something that sounded vaguely familiar to _'I'm used to it anyway_.'

Draco cleared his throat. "So, where did you even get all this food?"

"The kitchen," she replied, "The elves there love me."

"You're such a spoiled brat, Potter."

"You're one to talk."


	6. assuage

"Are you planning on hiding in the shadows of the school forever?" Potter asked with an exasperated sigh.  
  
Draco had managed to lay low for almost two days, sitting at the back of classrooms and taking long routes to every class. Potter had patiently humoured him on several occasions, and even taken him to the kitchens for meals when he'd refused to go to the Great Hall. She told him Granger and Weasley wouldn't mind, and that they treasured every moment they got alone.  
  
"I'm not brave enough to face everyone yet, I'm a Slytherin," Draco stated.   
  
"That's the most irrational thing I've ever heard," she said. "You're skipping lunch because you're a Slytherin?"  
  
"You don't understand-"  
  
"I don't?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.  
  
Draco sighed, "Fine. You understand. I know you do. What I'm saying is... I'm not as brave as you are, Potter. I thought you already knew that."  
  
"Yeah, I figured that out in first year," she said, "But you can't keep hiding forever!"  
  
Draco thought about it for a second. "Fine. But I will eat and then I will get out of there."  
  
"Deal."  
  
The Great Hall was filled with chatter when they entered, and Potter looked at him encouragingly.  
  
"I'll see you in Transfiguration," she said, and then began heading towards the Gryffindor table.  
  
Draco took a seat that was closer to hers at his table. He tried to convince himself that it was just a coincidence, but he knew he'd chosen to sit closer to her just in case anyone decided to verbally attack him. He knew Potter would defend him.   
  
His decision turned out to be wise, because just a few minutes later, Sebastian Kane and his little group turned up behind him. While Draco had gotten used to their constant tormenting, they had never really ridiculed him openly in front of the whole school.  
  
"Oh look, the Death Eater's out of the Hospital Wing," the tall boy said, "Someone needs to put him in Azkaban now."  
  
A lot of people snickered, and even many laughed. Draco felt his ears and neck turn red.  
  
"Go away, Kane."  
  
"Why should I?" Kane challenged, "You deserve this."  
  
"They should at least lock him up in his house with his Daddy," the girl next to him said, "People like him shouldn't be allowed to roam around freely."  
  
His eyes were burning now, and he hoped he wouldn't cry in front of the whole school.  
  
"What's going on here?"  
  
"Rose! Yes, I was wondering when you'd show up," Kane said, "You're mates with him now, aren't you? I really don't understand why you associate yourself with people like him. You're the girl who lived, for Merlin's sake! You should set an example for everyone else by condemning all the people who fought on the wrong side of the war."  
  
"You think you're one to speak about setting examples?" she asked in a threatening voice, "Because you're not doing a very good job right now."  
  
Draco noticed all conversation in the Hall had seized, as everyone craned their necks to watch Rose Potter defend Draco Malfoy - a Slytherin, a Death Eater and her once arch nemesis.  
  
"Don't turn this on me, Rose. Ask your new friend why he was in the Hospital Wing," Kane sneered at his own housemate, "Maybe once you come to know that his Dark Mark had started bleeding, you'd remember who he truly is!"  
  
"Wait a second, how did you know why he was in the Hospital? I'm more than certain he didn't tell you," Potter said, a look of realisation spreading across her face. "Was it you that hexed him at the black lake?"  
  
Kane hesitated for a second, and glanced around panic-stricken. People around the Great Hall had started whispering.  
  
"What if I did?" Kane said, "We all know he deserves to die after all the people who've died because of him!"  
  
"Sebastian!" Potter gasped, and so did many others, "How dare you say something like that?"  
  
Draco felt his breathing get erratic as he processed the words that were thrown at him. He hunched over the table, trying to hide the tears that were now slowly running down his cheeks and bit his lips to prevent any sounds from escaping.  
  
"What? It's true! Everyone's been thinking the same thing since he first came back this year! But they're just afraid to say it out loud," he said.  
  
"I will make sure you get detention for at least an entire term, you git," Potter sneered at the boy, but Draco did not wait to hear what came next. He suddenly got up, pushing past both Kane and Potter, and ran out of the Great Hall. He furiously ran his fingers through his hair as he subconsciously traced his steps back to the same place he had a year ago.  
  
The first floors girls' lavatory was empty like it usually was, and Draco walked over to a basin, splashing water over his face. He heard footsteps behind him, but unlike the last time, this time he wasn't startled.  
  
"I shouldn't have come back," he said, "No one wants me back."  
  
She did not counter that. They both knew it was true, there was no denying it. That was one thing he really appreciated about Potter, she never sugar coated things, or gave him a false opinion. Draco was beyond grateful for that.  
  
"I don't belong here," he whispered, but he knew she could hear him. He turned around and saw her looking at him carefully. Draco slumped against the closest wall, covering his face with his hands. "I should be in Azkaban. That's where people like me belong."  
  
Draco heard shuffling next to him, and saw Potter leaning next to him from the corner of his eye.  
  
"Have you ever wondered why the Bloody Baron wears chains covered in silver blood?" she asked.  
  
"Potter, what-?"  
  
"When he was in Hogwarts, the Bloody Baron fell in love with Helena Ravenclaw, daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw-"  
  
"Potter, I'm not in the mood for your nonsense-"  
  
"But she always rejected his advances, presumably because he was a Slytherin," Potter said.  
  
"Is this some kind of a joke?"  
  
She paid him no heed.  
  
"Later on in their lives, Helena stole a diadem belonging to her mother and ran away to Albania. Rowena fell fatally ill and ordered the Baron to go after her, which he did. He eventually found her hiding in a forest with the diadem-"  
  
"I can't believe you're actually going through with this."  
  
"After he had found her, the Baron tried to compel her to return with him, but she refused, and, in a fit of rage, he killed her. Overcome with grief about what he'd done, he proceeded to take his own life with the same weapon he used to stab Helena. He knew he couldn't live without her. And to this day, he continues to live with the knowledge that he killed the woman he supposedly loved."  
  
"How romantic," Draco muttered sarcastically, wondering why she would tell him a story this depressing. "If you were trying to make me feel better, Potter, that story did not help."  
  
"Oh it did," she said, "You're not crying anymore. You seem to be a little pissed off with me, but then again, when are you not? So I think it worked just fine."  
  
He hadn't even noticed it. He'd been too focused on her ridiculous story to pay attention to his breathing.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yes," she said. "Always works for me. Thinking about other people's problems."  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows, "That's an unusual way of relieving your grief."  
  
"Yes, but sometimes it helps to know that I'm not the only one suffering. The Bloody Baron has to live a sad eternal existence. At least I don't have to go through that," she said, "Now, what was that you were saying about not belonging here?"  
  
Draco presses his lips together, and exhaled loudly through his nose.  
  
"I think I should go back home."  
  
"That's a stupid idea," she deadpanned.  
  
He inhaled audibly.  
  
"He's right - Kane's right. Everyone thinks I should be in Azkaban."  
  
"That's not true."  
  
"Potter, we both know it is."  
  
"They don't want you here," she said, "But that doesn't mean they want you in Azkaban."  
  
"Isn't it the same thing?"  
  
"No," she said, "They're just... unsure of how to act around you. Not everyone wants you in Azkaban. And even if they do, I don't see why you're suddenly being so sensitive about it. You never cared what anyone said about you these past years, why do you care now?"  
  
"It's not the same anymore..." Draco said, after a minute of silence, "I'm not the same person anymore."  
  
"I understand," she said, "But you have to realise that it took me a while to convince them of the fact that that Snape was innocent. They wouldn't even believe me on that despite everything I said that day and all the evidence I gave them later on. It was hard for me, it honestly was. But you can't blame them for not easily believing you, they've all been affected by this war. It's only natural they won't trust someone who was once a Death Eater."  
  
Draco flinched at her blunt words. "So you're saying nothing can be done?"  
  
"I never said that!" she said, "What I'm trying to tell you is, you have to give this whole thing some time. And a little effort won't hurt either. You can't have everything served to you on a silver plate anymore. You need to work for it, like everyone else does. You have to think about others too; I know this might be news to you, but it helps. Because you're not the only one in a bad place right now, everyone else is."   
  
She was about to say something else, when they were interrupted.  
  
"Rose! Draco!" a whiney voice said, "Have you both come to visit me?"  
  
It was Myrtle.   
  
"You both won't start fighting again, will you?" she asked. "I don't really like it when you both fight. Oh, and I also don't appreciate blood all over my bathroom."  
  
"Oh look, just the person who was missing from this little reunion," Potter muttered sarcastically, her demeanour changing completely. She turned to the ghost and said, "Thanks for reminding us about that, Myrtle. Good old times."  
  
"Oh, you're welcome, Rose," the ghost said, not getting Potter's sarcasm. "You haven't visited me in such a long time! I've missed you!"  
  
Potter ran her fingers through her hair nervously, "Uh, yeah-"  
  
"I wasn't talking to you," Myrtle said, and then turned to Draco, "I meant you, Draco. I haven't seen you for the past year. You're much taller now, and more handsome."  
  
"I, uh, I've been busy."  
  
"Yes, I heard about that," she said shyly, "I hope you will come to see me often now that you're back. We could spend more time together."  
  
"Er, yes, sure," Draco said, ignoring the incredulous look Potter was sending his way. "I'll visit you more often."  
  
Myrtle nodded and smiled shyly, before she proceeded to lunge into one of the toilets from what Draco guessed was embarrassment.  
  
Potter looked at him dumbfounded, before clearing her throat and saying, "Well, this is exactly what I was talking about. Not everyone wants you gone. Your girlfriend definitely wants you around."  
  
"Shut up, Potter," Draco snapped, his cheeks turning pink.  
  
"If you ever get too tired of your common room, you could always share her bathroom with her," Potter continued with an annoying smirk, "I'm sure she wouldn't mind sharing a stall with you."  
  
Draco glowered at her, "Just go on with what you were saying."  
  
"You mean before your love interrupted us?" she asked, "I was just saying that you can't expect people to be so forgiving so quickly. It's barely been a few months, they need time."  
  
Draco massaged his forehead, "So I just wait?"  
  
"It won't hurt if you tried interacting with some of them, like you are with me," she said. "I mean, you have to admit I'm not as bad as you once thought I was."  
  
Draco sighed, "Not everyone is as kind as you Potter."  
  
"Was that a compliment?" she asked, surprised.  
  
"You can take it however you like," Draco said in an off hand manner, "What I meant was, not everyone will believe me when I tell them I've changed."  
  
"Then make them believe you," she said, "I'll tell you who to start with - Hermione."  
  
"Granger?" Draco asked incredulously, "No way. She'll probably slap me again."  
  
"Oh, I almost forgot she did that!" Potter said with a grin, "She's brilliant, isn't she? But I can assure you she will not. She's really understanding when it comes to these things. She's the most forgiving of the three of us."  
  
"But after all the things I've said to her..."  
  
"Just try, Malfoy," she said, "Convincing her would mean partially convincing Ron."  
  
"Just partially?"  
  
"Yeah. Let's face it - Ron won't ever forgive you," Potter said, "There's too much damage there, family wise and personally, too. I mean, I love him and he's my best friend, but even I'll admit he holds grudges for even the smallest of things, so there's no chance with you. He really hates you."  
  
"That was a great boost of confidence," Draco said sarcastically.  
  
"But if Hermione asks him to be civil with you, he just might try. There's no telling," Potter said, "So just talk to her if you can, she's the nicest person you'll ever meet."  
  
Draco looked at her unsurely, and sighed, "Is there any other way-"  
  
"No."  
  
He sighed again, a bit more dramatically this time. "Fine."  
  
"Good," Potter said, "Trust me, it'll help. Besides, I'm sure you'll appreciate having a smart friend for once."  
  
She checked her watch and her eyes widened suddenly, "Oh look, we've missed Transfiguration!"  
  
"I don't really care."  
  
"Neither do I," Potter said, "But like I've said before, I need to attend classes to get a good grade. So get up now and let's get moving. We'll make it in time for Potions."  
  
"You never told me what your career choice was," Draco pointed out as they stormed down the corridor.  
  
"An Auror," she replied, "I want to be become an Auror."  
  
"Makes sense," Draco said. "But I doubt you'll need Transfiguration classes for that. Putting _'I defeated Voldemort'_ on your résumé should get you the job."  
  
"Hermione begs to differ. She forced me to come back to Hogwarts. _'Oh_ _but Rose, that'll be unfair to all the people who complete their NEWTs to become Aurors!'_ " Potter said, with a rather accurate imitation of her friend.  
  
Slughorn's classroom was only half full, and Draco noticed that Granger and Weasley were already seated. To his disappointment, Potter began to walk in their direction and Draco decided to take that as a cue to separate. As he began walking towards the back of he class, he felt a harsh tug on his sleeve and turned to see Potter raising her eyebrows at him.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?"  
  
"Back of the classroom to dwell in the darkness."  
  
"No you're not," she replied, "Did you already forget what I just said?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You need to mix up with people." she said, exasperated, "We're sitting with Ron and Hermione."  
  
Draco observed her face carefully to make sure she wasn't joking, and then replied, "No."  
  
"What do you mean _'no'_?" she said, "Yes we are. That, or you can look forward to dealing with Kane and his friends alone."  
  
Draco considered his options, and ended up following her to the seat next to Weasley and Granger.  
  
"You've got to be kidding me, mate," Weasley groaned when he saw them settling into the seat beside him. "I thought you were joking when you said you were trying to be friends with him."  
  
Potter gave him a look and said, "Obviously, I was not."  
  
"So, he's going to sit with us?" Weasley asked, pretending as if Draco wasn't there.  
  
"Yes, he's going to sit with us," Potter said, "Hope you don't mind, 'mione?"  
  
"What? Uh - no," Granger said, looking up from her textbook, and glancing at Draco. "I don't mind."  
  
Weasley looked mad but helpless as both, his best friend and girlfriend, didn't seem to mind Draco's company much.  
  
"Whatever," he muttered, "But don't expect me to talk to that two-faced git."  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not here to talk to you either," Draco said, earning a look from Potter.  
  
"Yeah, I know exactly what you're here for," Weasley sneered, finally looking at him. Draco felt his stomach drop as he wondered for a moment whether Weasley knew about his feelings for Potter. But then he said, "You're here to rebuild your tarnished reputation. Being Rose's friend would certainly help, huh?"  
  
"I'm not trying to be her friend to help my reputation-"  
  
"And why should any of us believe that?" Weasley snapped, "After all you've done!"  
  
"Because I wanted to be her friend long before I even knew who she was!" Draco snapped, finally saying out loud what he had always repeated in his mind. "I wanted to be her friend long before you did. But I couldn't because I didn't know how! I was a misled child, and I messed up! And then I never got a chance to try again - until now. Okay?"  
  
All the three Gryffindors were staring at him in shock, and he wondered if he'd over spoke. Weasley was the first one to look away with a huff and mutter, _'Tosser'_ only to have Granger elbow him in the ribs.  
  
"That's not kind!"  
  
"He's Malfoy! I don't have to be kind!"  
  
When Granger saw him staring, and realised he'd heard what Weasley had said, she sent him an apologetic look.  
  
When Slughorn started class, Draco worked on their potion with Potter in silence. She occasionally gave him curious glances, but he kept his eyes in the potion. Granger and Weasley smiled and talked in hushed voices, with Granger making most of their potion. When Weasley and Potter and left to get their ingredients, Draco felt Granger's eyes on him. When he looked up, he saw her looking apologetically at him once again.  
  
"Sorry about Ron," she said.  
  
"It's alright, Granger. I guess I deserve it," Draco said.  
  
Granger's eyes were wide, and the look on her face suggested that she couldn't believe he'd just said that. "Oh."  
  
When Potter was back, they went back to working on their potion, their congruent partnership continuing to surprise him. After years of working with Crabbe or Goyle or Parkinson, who were less than interested most of the time, it was refreshing to work with her.   
  
Their potion had, once again, turned out to be better than average.   
  
"Sitting with you was the best decision I've ever made," Potter said. Weasley scoffed beside her.  
  
When Slughorn came by to check their potion, he once again ignored Draco, instead only praising Potter.  
  
"What about Draco, Professor?" Potter quipped, just as he was about to move to Granger and Weasley's table. "He made the potion too. In fact, I'm pretty sure I would have gotten it all wrong by myself."  
  
Draco wasn't sure who was more surprised, Slughorn or him.  
  
"You're underestimating your skills, Rose," Slughorn said, with an expression that clearly said he wished she would drop the subject, but adored her too much to stop her.  
  
"I'm not, sir," she said innocently. "Draco told me to add only half a drop of _Dragon Claw Ooze_ , instead of two. I would have destroyed the potion had it not been for him."  
  
Slughhorn knew very well that she was right, so he reluctantly looked at Draco and nodded stiffly with an unpleasant smile, "Good work, Mr. Malfoy."   
  
When he had walked away, Potter said, "Still not points for Slytherin, not that I'm complaining about that."  
  
"You called me _Draco_."  
  
"Sorry about that. I'm so used to calling you Malfoy, I forgot your name for a second there. Your names's Diana, right?" she sassed, "I'll keep that in mind next time."  
  
Draco wondered if she'd ever answer any of his questions like a normal person. But he knew he secretly enjoyed the cheekiness that was returning to her behaviour.  
  
When class was over, Draco walked out with Potter, with Granger and Weasley lagging behind them. Draco had a feeling Potter and Granger had purposely keeping a safe distance between Weasley and him, to prevent another fight from breaking out.  
  
"Free period!" Potter announced gleefully, checking her timetable.  
  
"Speak for yourself; I've got Ancient Runes next," Draco groaned.   
  
"Sad. Guess I'll see you later then," Potter said, and then glanced at her friends, before lowering her voice and saying, "Talk to Hermione, she had Runes too. And be nice."  
  
Before Draco could protest, she called Weasley over, and the two of them took off towards the Quidditch field without another glance behind.  
  
Draco looked at Granger hesitantly, before saying, "Walk you to Ancient Runes?"  
  
She looked hesitant too, but nodded.  
  
They walked in painful silence as they covered their long journey from the dungeons to classroom on the sixth floor. Apparently Granger found the silence just as awkward, because she was the first one to speak.  
  
"Malfoy, um, Rose told me about how you both were sort of, um, trying to put things behind you..."  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"Well," she said, fiddling with the books in her hands, "I thought about it. And I've decided that we could call a truce too. I mean, if she can find it in herself to put everything behind her, I can too."  
  
Draco was silent for a minutes before, he nodded, "Alright Granger, seems fair."  
  
She nodded, "But you have to agree to not call anyone a _Mudblood_ anymore."  
  
Draco looked away as his neck turned a deep shade of red. "Okay."  
  
She nodded again, "You have to understand that I'm only doing this for Rose. She truly believes that you deserve another chance. It's almost as if she's trying to identify you with Snape..."  
  
"What does that mean?" Draco asked.  
  
Every person they passed looked at them with wide eyes. Whether it was because of what happened that afternoon, or because Draco was walking the corridors with a muggle born while having a seemingly normal conversation - he wasn't sure.  
  
"Her mother stopped being friends with Snape when they were children because of something that he said. Which turned out to be a contributing factor as to why he ever thought of turning bad, for whatever short period that was," Granger explained, "And after what you said in potions today, I feel like she's trying not to do what her mother did. Her mother never gave Snape a second chance to correct his mistake, but she's intent on giving your friendship a second chance despite everything. "  
  
"I was never her friend," Draco said thoughtfully.  
  
"But like you said earlier, you tried to be," Granger correctly pointed out. "And she probably feels guilty about not giving you a chance earlier. That you wouldn't have gone over to the wrong side had she not rejected you that day."  
  
Draco got it now, why people thought Granger was smart. She was right. After listening to her, he was more than just sure Potter felt a sense of duty towards him; because Potter felt a sense of duty towards everyone. After all these years of continuingly having to save people on so many different occasions, it was probably like a second nature to her; a duty she had to follow.  
  
"Do you," Granger began, "-do you believe everything would have turned out differently had she accepted your friendship?"  
  
Draco thought about it and shrugged, "Probably."  
  
When they reached class, they took their places at separate desks. Draco couldn't bring himself to pay attention to what the Professor was saying; his mind was too busy pondering what Granger had asked him.  
  
_Do you believe everything would have turned out differently had she accepted your friendship?_ He knew the underlying meaning of her words. _Do you think you would have turned out different had she been your friend?_  
  
He knew the answer all too well. He knew he would have turned out no different than Weasley or Granger or the rest of Potter's other friends. If he'd sat with her on the train, he wondered if he'd even be donning the green and silver tie that he did. He wondered if his parents would have disowned him. His mother definitely wouldn't have, but his father on the other hand... Draco wasn't too sure. His mother had told him stories about how Phineas Black, and Lola Black, and Andromeda Tonks, and even Potter's own Godfather, Sirius Black had been disowned for reasons ranging from being sorted into Gryffindor to associating themselves with anyone that wasn't a pureblood. Would he have been included to the list of those people had he become friends with her seven years ago? What was to say he wouldn't be disowned now? His father wouldn't mind his new friend being a half blood so much as he would mind him being friends with Rose Potter.  
  
Was it even worth it? Getting disowned for her... He immediately stopped his thoughts right there. He'd made this mistake before, he wasn't about to repeat it. Besides, he couldn't remember anyone ever being as empathetic towards him as Potter had been earlier. She had a very peculiar way of comforting people.   
  
Draco reminded himself he most certainly wasn't special. She was nice to everyone.  
  
When class ended, Draco began walking towards the common room, not in a mood for a feast after that train of thought.  
  
"Aren't you coming for dinner?" he heard Granger call out.  
  
Draco turned around and replied honestly, "I don't want a repeat of today afternoon."   
  
"You don't have to worry about that," Granger said, "Hagrid noticed what had happened, and gave Kane five months of detention. I don't think he'll ever do what he did again. Besides, Rose gets really upset when people skip meals."  
  
"I've noticed," Draco said, remembering the numerous times she'd bugged him about attending meals, "What's all that about?"  
  
"You should just ask her. It's not really my place to tell you that," Granger replied shortly, "But you should come or she gets upset about it."  
  
Draco sighed and followed her towards the Great Hall. They maintained a distance between them and once again walked silently, feeling the eyes of their peers on them. The Great Hall grew silent when he walked in, and Draco questioned why he'd even decided to listen to Granger in the first place. He took his usual seat at the end of his house table and ate in silence while pretending to read a book that he happened to have with him.  
  
The announcements that day included a notice for the first Hogsmeade Weekend, making everyone grin and chatter. Draco was indifferent, little things like this failed to affect him now.   
  
"Seventh Year students that are repeating the school year, and are of age need not produce a permission slip," McGonagall said. That was convenient, since he hadn't bothered to get his signed.  
  
His eyes travelled to Potter at the Gryffindor table, where she sat grinning and talking animatedly with Longbottom. Longbottom's face was red for some reason, but his posture was better than it had ever been. Draco noticed that he seemed a bit more sure about himself this year; the way he walked, talked and even managed to look Draco in the eye without immediately looking away made him seem like a totally different person. Longbottom had to be the only one who had come out of the war stronger than before.   
  
The rest of the day had gone by slowly, and it was the next day in Charms that Draco finally gathered the courage to ask Potter what had been on his mind since dinner the previous night.  
  
"Hey Scarhead?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"There's a Hogsmeade Weekend coming up,"  
  
"Uh huh," she replied. Her voice came out muffled as her face was buried in her arms that were folded across the desk. She'd told him she hadn't been able to get much sleep last night, so he'd agreed to fill her in on the charm that Flitwick was droning on about later.  
  
"So, uh," Draco said, "I was wondering if we could go together? Just look around..."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You're not coming with me just because you pity me for not having anyone to go with, right?"  
  
"I've pitied your terrible seeker skills since second year," she said, peeping at him from between her arms, "Have I ever offered to train you before?"  
  
"Can you please answer me directly for once?"  
  
"I meant I won't ever do anything just because I pity you."  
  
"You could have just said that the first time," Draco sighed, shaking his head at her annoying habit, before asking, "Your friends won't mind?"  
  
"Not really," she said, "Ron and 'mione have to take rounds to see if everyone's behaving, so I don't really fancy accompanying them. And Neville has a date-"  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
Several people glanced behind at them, and Potter sat up straight, sending Draco a warning glance.  
  
" _Longbottom_ has a date?" Draco said slowly, a little less loudly this time.  
  
"Yes, and don't act so shocked," she said, narrowing her eyes. "He's turned into sort of a war hero now, so obviously all the girls want to go with him."  
  
Draco rubbed his face, frustrated. "Who's the lucky girl?"  
  
"Hannah Abbott."  
  
Draco frowned, "Have I heard that name before?"  
  
"That's the girl you saved; Neville has liked her since as long as I can remember. And now that he's popular, and she's alive, he finally had the guts to ask her. I'm really happy for him. He deserves it after everything - hey don't you dare say something mean to him!" she warned, misjudging the aggrieved look on Draco's face.  
  
He wasn't upset that Longbottom had a date. A few years ago, that news would have made his day. It gave him so much material to come up with new insults. But now, Draco couldn't care less now. He only ever pretended to be interested in Potter's friends because he knew talking about them made her happy.  
  
It was the fact that even someone like Longbottom had managed to confess his feelings to the girl he liked and Draco was still struggling, that made him feel sour.  
  
But at least they were friends now, as opposed to being adversaries. When he'd decided to return to Hogwarts, he'd come here with no expectations whatsoever. But now that he'd somehow managed to do what his younger self couldn't, he found that lately, he'd been spending a lot of time wondering if their friendship could possibly evolve into something that wasn't... just friends.  
  
But he didn't dare hope. If it did not end up the way he desired, the reality would be too crushing. 


	7. benign

The following Sunday, Draco woke up sooner than his roommates, in order to get ready without raising any questions. Not that they would ever voice their thoughts. Zabini usually just gave him curious stares, and immediately looked away whenever he was caught staring.

Draco got dressed in dark pants and a navy blue jumper, safely tucking away his wand in his pocket. He didn't want to admit it, but he spent a few extra minutes on his appearance than he normally would. He combed his hair for longer than necessary and brushed his teeth twice for good measure.

 _Pathetic_ , he thought.

When he was done, he realised he'd gotten ready a good half hour earlier than necessary, and spent the time he had before lunch reading in his bed fully dressed for a day out. It was a few minutes later when he heard a groan and shuffling from the bed next to him that he finally shut the book and got out of bed. Putting on his shoes and checking his reflection in the mirror one last time, he left the room. The common room was empty, and so was the Great Hall when he reached there. There were hardly a handful of people sitting at the tables, with the Ravenclaw table being completely vacant.

He had sat at the Slytherin table for no longer than ten minutes when the doors to the Great Hall pushed open, and Potter walked in. She looked around and immediately made her way to the Slytherin table once she spotted him.

She stifled a yawn as she sat down beside him, and then lazily plopped her head on the table.

"Didn't get enough sleep?"

She shook her head. "I dreamt that the troll from first year squashed me to death. Payback for sticking my wand up his nose."

"That's disgusting."

She smirked lazily, "I'd briefly considered saving up the troll boogers on my wand to slip them into your pumpkin juice-"

"POTTER! I will kill yo-"

"Relax," she said with a grin, "I didn't go through with it."

Draco rubbed his forehead, "Is there anything else you've slipped into my food that I should know about?"

"Nope," she said, "Ron once suggested I slip a love potion into your drink, so you'd make a fool out of yourself. But Ginny found out about it and told Hermione, and then we had to deal her preaching on for hours about how we shouldn't stoop to your level."

"Forget I asked," Draco said quickly. "I don't want to know about any more of your plans."

But he secretly wondered if being under the influence of a love potion would be any different than how he already was.

They had breakfast and left the Hall just as people began to fill in and throw Potter weird looks. Draco knew she didn't mind sitting at tables of other houses - he'd seen her sitting with Looney at the Ravenclaw table before, and she often sat at the Hufflepuff table in their fourth year. But he could still understand why people would be shocked to see her at the Slytherin table of all places.

"I've decided to keep an open mind about your house," she explained as they walked towards the entrance hall. "Mind you, I still hate almost all Slytherins... but after what happened with Snape, I've decided to be more... considerate."

That only confirmed Granger's words from earlier, about Potter relating Draco and herself with Snape and her mother.

"You're already considerate, Potter," he said, "If you get any more considerate, you'd become a pushover."

"I would take that as a compliment," she said, "But knowing you, it might just not be one."

When they walked over to the main gate, they saw Filch standing guard as always. As soon as he saw Potter, he glared at her. 

"You're early," he said scornfully.

"Actually, no," Potter replied, "We're just on time. Almost too accurate."

"Where's your permission slip, Potter?" he sneered.

Potter smiled and said, "We're of age now, we don't need permission slips anymore."

Filch looked as murderous as he always did around Potter, and harshly threw the gates open. The walk to Hogsmeade was considerably short, and Draco cut down on the complaining that he often did whenever he was made to walk long distances.

Potter's cheeks and nose were a bright red from the cold, but other than that, she looked pretty relaxed.

"Granger and Weasley know you're going to be with me?" Draco asked.

She nodded, "Yeah. Ron wasn't too happy about it, but he was too busy complaining about his Head Boy duties and eventually forgot I ever even mentioned it."

"Sounds like something that buffoon would do."

"Hey! He's not a buffoon, Draco!"

He was slowly getting used to it - her calling him by his first name. It was a bittersweet feeling. On one hand, he missed the angry ' _Malfoy!_ 's she would often throw his way, but on the other, he really liked the way she said his name. It made him feel validated. He, for one, was yet to start calling her by her first name. It made him nervous for some unfathomable reason - the thought of calling her by her first name. It reminded him why he ever called her 'Potter' in the first place, and exactly how much had changed since.

They had established a pretty good friendship now, and here they were, walking to Hogsmeade like old friends. Speaking of which, Hogsmeade was, was expected, covered in snow. And Potter did not give up the opportunity to pass an insightful comment.

"The amount of white here is enough to put your entire family to shame."

Draco glared at her, "We have _blonde_ hair, not white."

"Could've fooled me," she said with a shrug, "But you should be happy; it serves as natural camouflage. If it weren't for all the black that you wear, I would've had a hard time keeping track of you."

"Why did I ever decide to keep you around?"

"Beats me," she shrugged, "So, where do you want to go?"

Despite having a sweater on, she was shivering. Draco noticed her sweater was peculiar; emerald green with a white _R_ on it _._

" _Tomes and scrolls_ ," Draco replied immediately.

She groaned, "And I thought being away from Hermione I wouldn't have to visit that cursed place today."

Draco rolled his eyes, "I need to buy books."

"Whatever," she said, "But then we go to _Honeydukes_."

"Fine by me," Draco agreed.

Despite her complaining, Potter seemed comfortable once they'd entered the warm bookshop. Draco immediately started scanning the book titles on the shelves, and she silently followed him around, looking completely lost. After a while, she lost all interest and walked away towards the front of the shop.

Draco wondered for a moment if she'd just walked out of the store, but then remembered she was Potter, and she'd never do that. Unless she spotted a troll that she could fight, of course, or maybe a nice, ol' dark wizard. In which case, she'd abandon anything and everything. She either gave it her all, or absolutely nothing. And now that he had experience of being both, on her good and bad side, he knew he preferred the former.

He found her later at the billing counter at the front of the shop, chatting with the old lady that owned the place. 

Draco shook his head. How did she find the energy to talk to so many people? More importantly, with a _smile_! He personally found people to be very exhausting, with only a handful of exceptions.

The two women stopped talking when they noticed him walking towards them. Draco placed the books in his arms onto the counter.

"Those are five too many books," Potter said.

"There's never too many books, dear," the older woman said, before slipping the large, heavy books into a tiny bag with an Extension Charm.

When they left the shop, the village looked a lot more crowded. Potter seemed a bit more cheerful now that they were outside, and Draco was reminded of the fact that she wasn't much of a book person.

He could see many of their classmates there, and he just wanted to get away from them as soon as possible.

"Why are _they_ here?" Draco complained.

Potter gave him one of her _'are you stupid?_ ' looks.

"Because it's Hogsmeade Weekend," she deadpanned.

"That was a rhetorical question, you idiot."

"You sounded like the idiot, not me. Ferret."

"Hey, hey, hey," Draco warned, "I thought we agreed that that word was out of bounds."

"I don't remember ever agreeing to anything like that. Why would I ever agree to _not_ call you ferret? That's the only thing I enjoy more than Quidditch!"

"I'm flattered."

"You should be!"

"Again," Draco said tiredly, "That was sarcasm!"

"I know. I just chose to ignore it."

"Merlin, you're infuriating," Draco muttered, "Let's just go to _Honeydukes_ so you can stuff your mouth with sweets and shut up for a few minutes!"

Honeydukes smelled as sickeningly sweet as it always did, and was as crowded as it always was. The owner of the shop noticed Draco and narrowed his eyes. But he relaxed once he noticed Potter with him, probably thinking that if Draco tried anything, she'd stop him.

Which was true; she wouldn't think twice before _stupefying_ him.

Potter immediately started filling her arms with candies and chocolates, looking as enthusiastic as Draco had felt in the bookshop. It was weird how he always felt happier when he was in a quiet place with only a handful of people around, while she seemed energized by the throng of people chattering and pushing around the small room. 

As he was musing over the fact that the brave conqueror of the Dark Lord apparently had a sweet tooth, they had an unexpected visitor.

"Hello, Rose Potter," they heard a voice from the other side of the stall that had the chocolate frogs.

Draco felt his blood run cold. The last time he'd seen the girl, she'd been locked up in his family basement, tortured and starved.

"Hey Luna," Potter grinned. "Fancy meeting you here."

"You too," Luna Lovegood said, giving them an aloof smile. "Hello, Draco Malfoy."

"Uh, hi."

"Are you both on a date?" she asked as she continued to smile her crazed smile.

Draco didn't have to look at Potter to know that she was as embarrassed as he was because she quickly managed to stammer out, "Uh, no. We're just - just looking around..."

"Oh, that's a shame," Lovegood said dejectedly. Draco couldn't fathom why she would be upset about her friend not going on a date with the boy whose family had kept her in captivity for months.

"Why is it a shame?" Draco dared to ask her.

"I saw a _Grizzled Mantipie_ floating around the village earlier. They make you feel nice and warm," she explained with a very serious expression, "It helps ease tension on dates."

Draco frowned, "What's a _Grizzled Manti_ -"

Potter harshly nudged him in his ribs and shook her head as a warning, making him shut up.

"So, where's Ginny?" Potter asked.

"She's over at Three Broomsticks with the Gryffindor Team. She's going to meet me once she's done with her meeting - oh!" Luna said suddenly, her eyes travelling over to the window near them, "There it is! The _Mantipie_! Maybe I could follow it and see where it lives."

There was nothing in the direction that she was looking in, except a couple of lost looking third years. Draco looked at Potter to confirm he wasn't going mad and saw her already looking at him with a knowing smile.

"I'll see you later Rose, Draco," Lovegood said, "I need to go before it gets away."

Then, she easily made her way through the crowd, before disappearing outside. 

"Why are all your friends weird, Potter?"

She narrowed her eyes, "She'd not weird! She's just... different. A good different. Besides, if you didn't notice, she was nice to you!" 

"Yeah, she... she didn't mention anything," Draco said quietly, " _Nothing_."

Sensing his tone, Potter cleared her throat, "Let's get a few of those Peppermint Toads and then get out of here."

Potter seemed to know the man at the counter (Surprise! Surprise!) and talked to him for longer than Draco would have preferred, as the man kept sending him suspicious glances. They made it out in time, just as a large group of excited third years rushed inside and started creating a ruckus.

"Stupid children," Draco grumbled, when one of the younger boys stepped on his polished, leather shoe.

"What are you so grumpy about?" Potter asked, rolling her eyes, "You were worse!"

"I didn't go around making a mess," Draco said, "That was always your thing."

"Yeah right," she replied, pulling out a crimson coloured lollipop and handing it to Draco, "You went around bossing people. _That_ was your thing."

He narrowed his eyes at her words, and then proceeded to unwrap the lollipop and lick it.

"Urgh! Wha- ehh! What the bloody hell is this?" Draco yelled, trying not to throw up from the terrible taste of blood in his mouth. "Potter!"

She was laughing. And by laughing, he meant red-in-the-face, tears in her eyes kind of laughing.

" _Bloody hell -_ that's exactly what it is!" she wheezed.

Draco glared at her, before rewrapping the lollipop and throwing it away.

"Here," Potter said between laughs, offering him a piece of her chocolate frog. "Eat this."

Draco eyed the chocolate suspiciously.

"Relax. I'm eating it too," she said, rolling her eyes, before pushing it to his mouth.

He took a bite out of it. Luckily, it wasn't blood flavoured. He took the entire piece from her, and after looking at the look on her face, he said, "That's what you get for trying to feed me a blood flavoured lollipop!"

They walked aimlessly down the street, and he could tell Potter had noticed his foul mood after her joke.

"Soooo, Draco," she said lightly, "Are you taking me to Madam Pudifoot's next?"

 

"Yeah, keep wishing, Potter," Draco said.

Madam Pudifoot's looked as pink and nauseous as it always did, and even from the outside, Draco could see it was filled with lousy couples. He saw Longbottom inside and wasn't the least bit surprised to know that this was the place he'd decide to go on a date. If Draco himself ever had a chance to take _someone_ on a date, Madam Pudifoot's was the last place he'd choose.

"Have you been there before?" he asked Potter.

She shook her head, "It was never my style."

"What was your style?"

"The Shrieking Shack - that's where I forced all my dates to go," she said with a grin, "Want to go there now?"

"Uh, no thanks. I can live without that experience," Draco said quickly. It took him a minute to realise what she'd just said.

_That's where I forced all my dates to go. Dates._

_Did that mean... they were both on a date?_

Before he could gather the courage or get the perfect opportunity to ask her about it, she had announced they would go to The Three Broomsticks. Draco didn't mind that place, it was the most comfortable of all other places in the village, and he usually spent all his previous Hogsmeade trips here.

Once inside, Potter immediately made a beeline for a window seat that Draco knew to be the fixed place that she and her friends occupied every Hogsmeade trip. He took a seat across from her and then placed an order for two Butterbeers. As Potter busied herself with glancing out the window at a group of younger Gryffindors laughing and pushing each other around, Draco took the chance to glance around the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lovegood sitting at a table cosying up to Weaselette.

"Guess she didn't find the Grizzled Mitipie after all," he mused.

When Potter saw who he was glancing at, she corrected, " _Mantipie."_

"Whatever," Draco said lazily, before asking, "So, how's Teddy doing?"

Draco made it a point to ask her about her little godson as often as he could. Because every time he did, Potter's eyes lit up like it was Christmas. Even now, just as he'd predicted, her face broke into a wide smile and she launched into a long story about him. 

His entire life, Draco had never been one to pay much attention to what other people had to say. Even in his friend group, it would always be him that spoke and the others would just listen. But Draco always made it a point to listen to whatever Potter had to say. In fact, ever since first year, whenever he was in the same room as her and she was saying something, he always paid close attention. Even if the words weren't directed towards him, her opinion always mattered to him.

"... so Andromeda found him in front of the mirror with bright violet hair! And the little brat was just sitting there and giggling at his reflection!" she was saying, her voice laced with amusement.

Draco smiled. He found it endearing how passionate Potter was about the people in her life.

"That reminds me," Draco began, "When I was six, I once accidentally dyed my hair, eyebrows and eyelashes dark green." Draco shuddered, recalling that catastrophic day.

She leaned forward with raised eyebrows, "I'm interested. Please go on."

Draco gave her a look, but continued, "I've been deathly afraid of Merpeople ever since. Even my Boggart is a Merperson with shiny orange eyes and a trident, trying to stab me to death."

To his surprise, Potter chuckled.

"I just told you something I've never told anyone before and you think it's funny?" Draco snapped at her.

She shook her head and said, "I'm not laughing at that. I'm just picturing six year old you. Looking all terrified with your green hair and running around, flailing your arms."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her as his neck turned red in embarrassment.

"I'm never ever telling you anything again Potter-"

"Oh come on, don't be like that," she said, "You know what, let me make it even. When _I_ was seven, I was once furious at my uncle and I accidentally made half of his moustache disappear. Worst part - he had guests over."

"No way-"

She nodded, "And you can only imagine my confusion! I didn't even know magic existed back then-"

Draco frowned. _What?_

"What does that mean?" he asked. When he saw that she looked confused, he elaborated, "You didn't know about magic back then...?"

Her eyes widened in realisation, and then she quickly diverted them to the Butterbeer that sat in front of her. She remained silent for a minute, but when she finally did look at him, she explained, "I didn't know I was a witch until my eleventh birthday."

This time, Draco's eyes widened.

"I didn't know who I really was, or who my parents really were or how they died. I didn't even know about the whole Voldemort thing," she said, "That day we first met was the first time that I'd ever known about, let alone visited our world."

Draco's eyes were fixed on the road outside the window, as he tried to process that shocking little revelation. 

"Why did no one tell you?" he asked finally.

She sighed tiredly. At first, Draco thought she was going to brush off his question, but then she answered, "It's kind of a long story. My aunt hated my mum since they were kids because mum was a witch and she wasn't. When my parents died and I was left with my aunt and her husband, she realised that I was a witch too. They saw me as more of a burden and less as their niece. They hated me because they thought I was a freak. They wanted to keep me as far away from the Wizarding World as possible, so they never told me."

Draco was subconsciously looking at her intensely. And when she noticed, a dust of pink spread across her cheeks.

"What?" she asked defensively, "Are you going to pity me, Malfoy?"

Draco shook his head, and asked grimly, "Is that why I reminded you of your cousin when we first met? Because he bullied you too?"

She exhaled loudly, and then reluctantly nodded, "You were also whining about how you were going to blackmail you father into getting you a broom. He always did that too. Whined and complained, despite being a bit too overprivileged."

Draco turned red as he was reminded of his younger self's behaviour. "I'm not like that anymore," he said quickly.

Potter smiled amusedly, "I know you're not. None of us are who we used to be."

"Yeah," Draco said, "For example, you are no longer a stupid Gryffindor who refuses to acknowledge the thin line that exists between bravery and idiocy. Oh wait - but you are!"

She glared at him but seemed thankful about the fact that he'd changed the subject.

No sooner had they finished sipping their drinks that they decided to start moving back to the castle. As they walked side by side, Draco occasionally stole at a glace at her from the corner of his eyes. He thought she looked beautiful, but then again, he'd always thought she looked beautiful. Maybe not always; definitely not in first year or even second year. She'd been pretty, yes, but she always looked like the kind of kid that would either grow up to be really beautiful, or really awkward. Lucky for her, she had turned out to be the former. He remembered she'd been too scrawny and unhealthy looking, her skin too pale and her hair a little too wild. But he still remembered being absolutely entranced by her eyes, and that captivating bright smile, and most importantly, her fiery glare.

It all changed in third year though. Draco still remembered all the perverted thoughts his younger, immature self had had when he'd first seen her. Merlin, he'd always been a sore loser when it came to her, hadn't he?

But all these memories suddenly raised a very important question. _What had changed?_ Except puberty, of course, what else had changed? For one, she'd started spending her summers with the Weasleys...

Could it be...?

"Potter?" Draco began carefully, "Can I ask you something?" he began carefully.

When he heard her hum a response, he continued with well thought out words, "You said your uncle and aunt hated you... Did they ever do anything they ideally shouldn't have?"

Her entire body tensed at his words, and she looked at him in shock, "What are you trying to say?"

"I just..." Draco began unsurely, "Did they ever... you know... starve you?"

When he completed his sentence, he diverted his gaze to his shoes, watching as they involuntarily kicked the snow on the road as he walked. 

"How did you figure that out?" she asked finally.

"So they did _starve_ you?" Draco asked furiously. He'd been hoping he was wrong about his assumption, but all signs pointed that way. What she'd just told him about her relatives just connected all the dots that had been laid out for him. Her obsession with not wasting food, attending every meal without fail, her sick and undernourished appearance at the beginning of the first year... it all made sense.

"It's not that big of a deal anymore," she said, "I've been through worse."

Somehow, her saying that made Draco even more furious. She'd been deprived of food as a child - he couldn't imagine anything worse than that. Maybe Voldemort - but the starving was still a close second.

"It _is_ a big deal, Potter," Draco said.

"Why do you want to talk about it?" she asked sounding a little frustrated, "They didn't give me food when they were angry with me. There's nothing more to it."

Her voice sounded a bit defeated, so Draco dropped the subject. He was angry - really angry. He didn't even know who her relatives were, but he was suppressing the urge to hex them into oblivion. 

 _Stupid muggles_.

When he looked at her again, he saw that she was frowning, and looking anywhere but at him.

"I'm sorry if I crossed a line," Draco said.

She eventually nodded, and then added, "That 'sorry' must mean a lot coming from you. I've hardly ever heard you apologise before. Maybe only twice."

Draco shrugged, "You have to be the only person I've apologised to my entire life. Excluding my parents, of course."

"I'm that special, huh?" she said lightly, not expecting his next words.

"Yes," Draco said slowly, "You've always been special."

Her head snapped up to look at him, and she seemed a bit surprised. Then, her cheeks turned red.

Draco suddenly felt a little bold after seeing her reaction.

 _It was now or never,_ he decided.

He slowly slipped his hand into hers. It was warm- her hand; and comforting, and it fit into his just own perfectly. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but he only gave her a weak smile. When she didn't pull her hand away, Draco took that as a positive sign and continued their conversation as if nothing had just happened.

"Do you still talk to them?"

"Not since the beginning the war, I haven't," she answered, still staring at their joined hands, "I don't think I am going to anytime soon either."

He squeezed her hand, "Good."

"Just to clear up something, not all muggles are bad, you know," she said after a few minutes of silence, "I just happened to have the worst of them as my relatives."

"Sure," Draco said, unconvinced.

"Have you been to a muggle neighbourhood before?" she asked.

"Not to have a leisurely stroll, no," Draco replied, remembering his participation in the Death Eater attacks on muggles. He always avoided killing them, usually just lingering in the background.

"I'm going to take you there someday," Potter said, "If you keep your prejudice aside, I think you'll enjoy it.

He nodded, though he wasn't particularly excited about visiting a muggle town. But if it meant he got more time with her, he didn't really mind.

As they neared the castle, he felt her eyes on him. When he turned to look at her, she had a strange expression on her face.

"What?"

She shook her head, "Nothing. I just still can't believe we're... friends now."

Draco nodded in agreement, "Who would've thought." 

 _Hoped? Yes,_ the voice in the back of his head went, _But never thought possible_.

"And it took us a war to finally give it a chance," she said, "But it feels like it's worth it, doesn't it? This isn't half bad. I do enjoy your company."

Draco smiled, "Ditto, Potter."

"If only you'd stop calling me Potter now," she said. "I have a name, you know. It's not as pretentious as yours, but it's still a nice name."

"My name isn't pretentious, it's unique," Draco pointed out, "Besides, it's not that I don't want to. It's just that... it'll just change how things have been for a very long time. It's always been Potter and Malfoy, never Rose and Draco. Potter and Malfoy argued and fought all the time, not Rose and Draco. It'll change who we've been around each other for all these years."

"But Potter and Malfoy were enemies. And we aren't enemies anymore," she reasoned, "We're friends. Rose and Draco can be friends, right?"

Draco ran his fingers through his hair, "Before we do anything else, we need to first stop talking about ourselves in the third person."

"You started it."

Draco rolled his eyes at her childish reply, but continued, "So you want me to call you _Rose_ then?"

"Yes."

Draco made a face and rolled his eyes again when he saw the expectant look she was purposely giving him.

"Fine," he huffed, "I'll try."

She grinned victoriously. 

They walked directly to the Great Hall, knowing it was time for the feast. Before they could walk in though, Potter pulled his arm, making him stop and turn around to face her. She was standing physically close to him, and Draco automatically held his breath. 

"I had a good time today, Draco. Thank you."

Feeling his face grow slightly hot, Draco stuttered, "Me too. I had a great time too. Except the for lollipop - that was quite literally bloody awful of you."

She laughed, before pushing the doors open and walking away towards the Gryffindor table. 

That night as he lay awake in bed, for the first time in months, it wasn't because of nightmares. Oh no - far from that.

He was smiling with happiness as he replayed the events of the day in his mind. Was it a bit silly? Definitely more than just a bit. But he couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed about the fact that he was an eighteen-year-old, mature person who was getting all giddy about holding a girl's hand.

But she wasn't just any girl, was she? No. No, she wasn't.

She was Potter. _Rose_ Potter. _Rose_. That's what she wanted him to call her.

Draco smiled again. 

Something about the look in her eyes when she'd told him she'd enjoyed spending her day with him had changed something inside of him. He felt the resolve he had built up, about not letting himself get carried away by his fantasies, crumble.

And then, for the first time in years, he allowed himself to hope. Even if it was just for one night, he allowed himself to think about her in a manner that wasn't as a friend, or an enemy. But as the girl that he was so fond of. It was perfect. At least as perfect as it could get, considering it was just his imagination.

Was there really a chance of something actually happening between them? Or had he misread her and was just being foolish?

But for the first time ever, he didn't care. He didn't feel like building up a resolve once more. He was tired of hiding his feelings and pretending to himself that he didn't think about kissing her or holding her every moment that he was with her. He had let it linger around for too long, and he needed to do something about it. Soon. Before it drove him nuts.

He knew just what he had to do. Take baby steps, and not scare her. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away with his feelings. He had to remind himself that this was most probably all still one-sided and that she still had no clue he felt so strongly about her.

He was being nice (as nice as he could manage) to her friends. He had developed what he hoped was a trustworthy relationship with her over the past few months. The only thing he had to do anymore was be brave like he had earlier that day, and give her little signs to show her how he truly felt about her.

Seemed easy enough.


	8. propinquity

"So, what did you name her?"

 

Draco was leaning against the wall of the Owlery, watching as Rose petted the Barn Owl that was sitting on her forearm. The bird wasn't fully grown yet, so it still had a comparatively tinier body with large, black eyes that were staring at Draco with curiosity. He had to suppress the urge to say something silly like 'Aww' and pet the adorable, little bird.

_Malfoys never find things cute_ , he reminded himself.

  
The bird had been Rose's eighteenth birthday gift from Hagrid. And judging by the way she had looked when she had told him about it, Draco figured it had some significance.

  
" _Pipper_ ," Rose replied happily, stroking her Owl's beak, who in return hooted affectionately. "I named her _Pipper_."

  
Draco snorted.

  
"What?" she asked defensively.

  
"What kind of a stupid name is that, Potter?"

  
"Your owl's name is _Hercules_!" she snapped, "With an obnoxious name like that, you're hardly one to talk!"

  
"I named him after my family's tradition of naming after celestial bodies," Draco defended. "It's a nice name."

  
"Merlin, I hope your future wife never lets you name your children," she said shaking her head, "Or you'll have little _Ophiuchus_ and _Pegasus_ running around the house."

  
Draco laughed, despite himself.

  
"I always thought _Cassiopeia_ would be a good name if I had a daughter," Draco told her truthfully.

  
Rose looked horrified, "If you ever name your daughter that, she'll be planning your death by the time she turns five."

  
He laughed again.

  
"What about _Norma_?" he asked.

  
She made another ridiculous face and shook her head.

  
" _Aquila_?"

  
"Nope."

  
" _Lyra_?"

  
"That could work," she replied honestly. "But still, no."

  
" _Cygnus_?"

  
"Eww. Merlin beard - no!"

  
By the time she was done sending her letter, Draco had run at least about fifty names by her. She'd approved of none of them, of course.

  
"What about you? Will you name you children after flowers?" Draco asked her.

  
"If I have a son, I can't really name him _Hibiscus_ , can I?" she said, "But honestly? I haven't given this much thought, unlike you. You seem to have spent a suspicious amount of time thinking about what you'll name your children. We're only eighteen!"

  
Draco felt his neck grow hot as he said, "It's not what you think. It's just... during the war, there was a chance I wouldn't survive, so... I spent a lot of time thinking what my life would be like if I did, and these things immediately came to my mind, you know... family and children..."

  
Rose frowned.

  
"When you put it like that... I'm surprised I didn't ever think of all those things. But then again, I was absolutely convinced I was going to die," she said thoughtfully, "Guess you must've had at least some hope to have been thinking about your future..."

  
"I think you're forgetting that the rest of us had you as our last hope," Draco said honestly.

  
She looked surprised for a minute as if she'd forgotten what he was talking about, before she said, "Right. Well, hope I didn't disappoint."

  
"Pretty sure you didn't. The bad guy is dead, so you're fine," he said.

  
"Good to know."

  
They walked back to the Great Hall to catch breakfast. On their way, Draco noticed people pointing at them and whispering to one another. He found this particularly weird because the whole excitement surrounding their friendship had finally begun to die down the past few days.

  
Rose turned to him and looked as suspicious as he did.

  
"What's going on?" he leaned in closer and asked her in a low voice.

As they passed a group of second or third year Hufflepuff girls, they pointed at the pair and burst into giggles.

  
"I'm not sure," she said nervously.

  
"Do you-"

  
"Rose!"

  
It was Granger, standing in the corridor next to the Great Hall next to a red faced Weasley.

  
"I'll go see what she wants," Rose said, "I'll see you later in the library?"

  
Draco smiled, "Yeah. See you later."

  
Draco was about to leave, but was stopped before he could.

  
"Malfoy!" Granger called out quickly, "You need to come here too - this concerns you as well."

  
Draco raised an eyebrow, before following Rose to her friends.

  
"What is it?" he asked.

  
Granger shared a nervous look with Weasley, who made a weird noise that sounded like a mix between a grunt and a snort of disbelief.

"What's going on 'mione? Ron?" Rose asked a little impatiently.

  
"She's done it again," Granger said, biting her lip nervously, "Skeeter. She's posted another article about you two."

  
"That's not really news," Draco told her, "She'd been doing that since the end of the war. People have stopped believing her."

  
"Yeah, but-" Granger said, meekly, "This is different -"

  
"Different how?" he asked her.

  
Weasley scowled at him, "Don't talk to her like that you git."

  
"What are you talking about?" Draco asked defensively.

  
"You were being rude to her."

  
"I wasn't-"

  
"Can you both stop?" Rose snapped. "Just please stop fighting for once, will you?"

  
"Yes, exactly. Thank you, Rose," Granger said, "Now, you both need to see this for yourselves."

  
She proceeded to pull out a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ from her bag and pushed it into Draco's hands.

  
"Page 2, right hand side - the gossip section," she instructed.

  
He quickly opened it, and almost immediately heard Rose groan from where she was standing next to him.

  
"I'm going to kill her," she mumbled under her breath.

  
The article was titled _**Rose Potter's Forbidden Romance**_ , and had a large picture of her with none other than Draco himself. It was clearly taken in _Hogsmeade_ from their last trip when they were both sitting at the window in The Three Broomsticks. Rose was in the middle of saying something, while Draco was smiling at her. He couldn't deny that to a third eye, it did look like they were romantically involved.

  
**_"The Girl Who Conquered the Dark Lord also seems to have conquered the heart of one of his own followers! On a recent school trip to Hogsmeade village, Miss Potter was seen enjoying a cosy date with Draco Malfoy, a fellow classmate of Miss Potter's and also a former Death Eater. Only a few months ago, Miss Potter raised several eyebrows when she decided to rescue Mister Malfoy and his family (which included his father and well known Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy). Looking back, it becomes very clear why she would save a disgraced family from their imminent doom - because of young love, of course!"_** Rose's face was red, and her teeth gritted, "This is absolute nonsense! She's trying to discredit and undermine my actions again!"

  
"So it's not true then?" Weasley asked with a relieved expression. Draco gave the redhead a death glare.

  
Rose, however, ignored him and scowled, "You need to do something about this Hermione. It's getting too much-"

  
"Rose, we already talked about this. The Ministry doesn't really care about Skeeter at the moment. Kingsley told us that they have bigger problems on their hands, with the aftermath of the battle. They need to help people settle back, and get the administration on track. And Skeeter's basically taking the stoplight away from them and creating a distraction with all her ridiculous stories. That gives them an opportunity to work with a low profile. She's helping them in a way-" Granger reasoned.

  
"I know, Hermione! But we can't let this go on forever! This is like fourth year all over again! Only this time, since she can't pair me with Ron, she's chosen Draco! Merlin, I'm-" her eyes suddenly widened as if she'd just remembered something, and she turned to look at Draco apologetically, "I'm so sorry she dragged you into this! I-I didn't know she would do this, or I would never have agreed to go with you to Hogsmeade. This was so stupid of me - I should've known!"

  
"It's alright, Rose," he said slowly, "I don't really mind."

  
She looked like she was deciding whether he was joking or being serious.

  
"What?" she asked dumbly.

  
"I said that I don't really mind," Draco repeated.

  
"Oh," she said with a weird expression, after a few minutes of staring. "I-I thought you'd be upset about this."

  
Draco shrugged, "Yeah? Well, I'm not."

  
"Yes, I can see that," she said, sounding frustrated again. "Why?"

  
"Why what?"

  
"Why are you not angry like I am?"

  
"I'm just not," he replied with a shrug, "Weren't you the one who told me not to listen to all of this and just be like the old Draco that didn't care about what anyone thought?"  
 

She looked surprised again, "Y-yeah - but - I... but... what about your parents? Won't they be upset about this?"

  
He shrugged again, "I guess."

  
"You guess?"

  
"I don't really care anymore," he said, "I doubt Mum will be all that upset. Father, on the other hand, will be furious."

  
"And that's bad, right?" she tried to reason again. "That's really bad - your father being mad at you."

  
"Nothing I can't deal with," Draco replied.

  
For some reason, she looked helpless and confused. Draco realised she had been expecting to get a rise out of him. Why? He wasn't sure. Maybe she expected him to be repulsed with the idea of him being romantically engaged with her. But in all honesty, he kind of wanted to thank Rita Skeeter for suggesting it.

  
"It's honestly not that bad, Potter," he said, "If I'm being completely truthful here, going on a date with you won't be the worst way to spend my afternoon."

  
Her face turned redder, but this time it was more due to embarrassment than anger. However, before she could formulate a response, Weasley had launched into a coughing fit. Granger was slowly rubbing his back, but her eyes were trained on Draco and she looked a little surprised.

  
"Are you okay, Ron?" Rose asked shakily.

  
"Y-yeah," Weasley said as he finally calmed down. Granger gave him a bottle of water, and once he had cooled down, he looked at Draco, puzzled, "W-what the hell was that about, Malfoy? What're you playing at?"

  
Draco lazily lifted his shoulder, "Just telling the truth."

  
"Uh, right," Granger intervened quickly before the two of them could break into another argument, "So, it's settled then. We're just going to ignore this for now. If it get's worse, we'll see how to deal with it. But for now, since she isn't writing anything too damaging, we should let it be."

  
" _Not writing anything damaging_?" Weasley exclaimed, "'mione, the woman's basically implying that Rose is secretly snogging Malfoy-"

  
"Ron!" It was Rose who interrupted him this time, "That's enough! And you know what, Hermione and Draco are right, I'll let it slide this one last time."

  
It was clear that she was only saying that because she wanted the conversation to stop, but nevertheless, Granger nodded, "Good. Now that that's settled, we should really get to breakfast, this is all getting really suspicious."

  
They separated to go to their own separate tables, and the next time Draco saw her again was in Transfiguration class.

  
"You're really going to let Skeeter go?" Draco asked her.

"Like I said, this is her one last chance," she replied, "Besides, I think Hermione has a good point. She isn't writing anything too damaging. Most of the school had already seen us together that day, she's just revealed it to a larger audience."

Draco nodded, "I'll probably write a letter to my parents tonight, telling them it's not the truth. Although I hardly think they believed it even for a second. Mum will be disappointed, I'm sure."

"Why's that?"

"She's gone from despising you to adoring you pretty quickly," he said, "You're the reason her family's safe. She's as close to opening a Potter Fan Club as they get. She'll be disappointed to know I'm not dating you."

"That reminds me, what the hell was that thing you said about going on a date with me earlier?" she asked in a hushed voice as it was the middle of class.

  
He'd known that was coming. _Tell her the truth. Tell her you meant it_ , Draco's mind screamed.

  
"I wanted to piss Weasley off," he ended up saying instead, "He was getting on my nerves."

  
Her face fell a little, but she quickly rolled her eyes and said with a weak laugh, "Of course. I should've guessed that."

  
They were both sitting in their usual place on the last bench, and as expected, their classmates continuously sneaked little glances their way, probably in hopes of catching them snogging.

  
Draco had been getting death glares all morning, but he didn't really mind. For once, he wasn't really ashamed of the rumour that was circulating around about him. And he had a feeling that most people around the school had gathered that much because no one came forward to press him about it. It still took almost a week for most of their peers (and some teachers) to finally realise that Skeeter had once again written complete lies about them.

  
This was especially highlighted when they were both been walking towards the Quidditch pitch, and a Gryffindor girl had approached Rose with a wide, deceiving smile.

  
"Hey Rose?" the girl said meekly, "I wanted to talk about what I said to you the other day..."

  
Rose shook her head dismissively, "It's alright. It doesn't really matter-"

  
"No," the girl insisted, "I should've known better than to think you'd ever date... him."

  
The girl gave Draco a stink eye, and he returned it with a glare. She whimpered and turned back to Rose.

  
"I shouldn't have called you what I did..." the girl said, placing a hand on Rose's shoulder. "You forgive me, right?"

  
Rose looked a little hesitant, but then nodded reassuringly, "Uh, yeah. Sure."

  
"Great, I'll see you around," the girl beamed, before striding away.

  
Rose looked at Draco sheepishly.

  
"Who was she?"

  
"One of my roommates," she answered, "Don't mind her. She's a sod."

  
"Yet you're still friends with her."

  
"You're a sod too," she reminded him, "Want me to stop being friends with you?"

  
Draco gave her a look.

  
"So what did she call you...?" he asked, remembering the girl's words.

  
"What? Oh, erhm," Rose said, her cheeks turning pink, "N-nothing."

  
"Stop lying, Potter," he said rolling his eyes, "I can tell you're not telling the truth."

  
Her cheeks turned a darker shade of red, and she grimaced, "She - she suggested I was what Ron would call a Scarlet Woman - only she used a more crude term."

Draco didn't know whether to laugh or be furious.

  
"Bloody hell, Potter! And you just forgave her without a second thought? Are you stupid or something?" he scolded.

  
"She lost her older brother in the war, alright?" Potter defended herself, "I'm just trying to be supportive here! She's obviously going through a hard time-"

  
"That doesn't give her the right to give you a hard time for doing absolutely nothing!" Draco sighed in frustration, "Why do you have to always feel responsible for what happens to other people? It's not your fault what happened to her brother! You don't owe her anything!"

  
"That doesn't mean I have to be rude to her-"

  
"No, but that doesn't you have to let her walk all over you either!" Draco snapped, shaking his head, "You know what? All these months I've been under the impression that you were only doing what you did for me out of kindness, but now I'm more than just sure it wasn't that. You helped me out because you thought you _had_ to. You felt responsible for the kind of person I turned out to be. You didn't decide to be friends with me because you wanted to or because you liked me - no. You became friends with me because you thought you owed me that, didn't you?"

  
They'd both reached the broomshed, and Rose had busied herself with rummaging through the brooms. Although Draco was standing right next to her, she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were trained on the ground and she was silent for once. Draco took that as an opportunity to continue.

  
"Surprisingly enough, I don't really care, Rose. I really don't mind that. I was terrible to you, and anything I do now won't ever be enough to compensate for what I've done in the past. So I never expected you to ever give me a chance without having ulterior motives. But now that I've figured out what those motives were, I don't understand why! Why do you feel like you owe people-?"

  
"I could've done better," she said shakily, her eyes still not meeting his, "I _should've_ done better."

  
He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but this definitely wasn't it.

  
"Rose, that's not true-"

  
She finally looked up at him with a glare, and he noticed her eyes were brimmed with unshed tears.

  
"How do you know it isn't true? You weren't there. You weren't there when I had to attend all those funerals of people I knew so well and be surrounded by their families and friends. Tonks, and Fred, and Lavender Brown, and Colin Creevy and-and so many more people that I couldn't even keep count after the first five!" she whispered, a few stray tears gliding down her cheek, "They would all be nice to me and thank me, but-but I could see it in their eyes... all of them blamed me for their loss... "

  
Draco was appalled, to say the least.

  
" _No one_ in their right mind is blaming you for what happened! If anything, _they_ owe _you_ for what you've done for our world! They realise they'd all be dead if you hadn't stopped him when you did!"

  
"But that's just it!" she exclaimed, her breathing getting shallow, "If I'd been quicker, I could have easily saved so many more lives! They didn't all have to die-"

  
"How did you even come to these conclusions, Rose?" Draco asked in dismay, "Did someone say something to you to make you think so lowly of yourself?"

  
Her expression morphed into one of such utter sorrow, Draco had to restrain himself from pulling her into his arms.

  
"H-he didn't mean to, but he a-accidently d-did," she said, "G-George asked me why I got to live while Fred had to die..."

  
"Why would Weasley say something like that?" Draco asked in confusion. He knew Rose had been as close to the Weasley twins as their own brother had been. She was almost a sibling to them, and he couldn't imagine why any one of them would ever indirectly blame her for the death of their brother.

  
"We were having an argument, and h-he said it in the heat of the m-moment," she explained, "A-after the b-battle, I was staying at the Burrow for a while. And everyone had someone to help them deal with the aftermath... Ron and Hermione and each other, Bill had Fleur, Ginny had Luna... but George and I - we were alone, so we were often left in each other's company. And it was all working out just fine, or at least I thought it was. Because one day, he suddenly declared that I was attempting to replace his twin by trying to be there for him. And that I didn't understand what he was going through. When I tried telling him that it wasn't true, he said I wouldn't understand because I'd never lost a family member I knew. That I'd never had a family to begin with."

  
She was crying now, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. Before she could say anything else, Draco hugged her. She didn't protest, and instead tightly wrapped her arms around his middle, as if trying to support herself. It was all too much for Draco - seeing Rose Potter cry. The only other time he'd seen her cry was after Diggory's death in fourth year, and he remembered being just as shaken as he felt right in that moment. It was unsettling to see someone who always exuded so much confidence completely break down into tears in front of him.

  
"He apologised later - he did," she mumbled into his shoulder, her finger loosely gripping his robes, "But that doesn't change the fact that he had finally said what everyone had been thinking."

  
"It wasn't your fault. None of it was, and that's the truth," Draco said, gently rubbing her back, "Weasley wasn't in his right mind when he said that. I'm sure he doesn't truly believe or mean what he said. You can't hold him to his word here - he did just lose his twin brother."

  
"I-I know it's wrong of me too, especially after he's apologised and I know he feels terrible about it... but there's an element of truth to what he said and-"

  
"Stop with this self-pity! It's not who you are, Potter!" Draco said. He pulled away from her and gripped her shoulders, before giving her a firm shake and making her look him in the eyes. "Think about this logically, not emotionally. This isn't on you. None of it is. You got to live because you deserved to. I'm not saying the others didn't - because they did too - but you were the one who got the chance to, and I think spending away your life drowning yourself in self-pity would be a waste of this opportunity."

  
She wiped her cheeks clumsily and after adjusting her glasses, she nodded, "I know."

  
"Please don't ever cry again, Pothead. You look like a bloody Banshee."

  
She half-laughed, half-sobbed, and then muttered, "Shut up."

  
Draco smiled and wiped her cheeks with his fingers. She sniffed as she looked up at him through her wet eyelashes, before saying, "Thanks."

  
Draco shrugged, "You helped me. I'm returning the favour."

  
She shrugged, "Yeah, but I know you don't do this feely stuff often... so... it means a lot..."

  
Draco nodded.

  
"I ruined the Quidditch match we were planning, didn't I?" she asked sheepishly.

  
"You didn't ruin anything, Potter," Draco said with a smirk, "You're just making up excuses because you know you're going to lose again-"

  
"I've never lost to you before!" she said, narrowing her eyes.

  
"You will this time," Draco teased her.

  
He pulled out two random broomsticks from the cupboard and handed her one of them.

  
"I won't," she said, snatching the broom from his hand, "I'll never lose to you, you Trollbrain!"

  
Draco laughed, "That's not even a real insult, Potter. You totally just made that up."

  
She glared at him, her misery from a few minutes ago completely forgotten.

  
"How about this - if I win, you have to do my Charms homework for me?" she bet.

  
"You already copy half of it from mine, Rose," Draco reminded her with a laugh, "I don't think it'll make much of a difference."

  
"That's not the point!" she complained, but then said, "Fine - if you want something challenging, then so be it. If you lose, you have to accompany me to the _Whomping Willow_."

  
Draco narrowed his eyes as he considered her bet. _How bad could it be?_

 

"Fine, I'll go," he finally said, "What do I get if I win?"

  
"What do you want?" she asked.

  
"Teach me how to cast a Patronus Charm," he said, without having to think too much about it.

  
She seemed a little surprised, but agreed to it nonetheless.

  
"Deal," she said with a grin, "Oh, this is going to be brilliant!"

  
She then pulled out the snitch she always carried with her and threw it up in the air. It only took the golden ball a few seconds to disappear.

  
Both of them mounted their brooms, and in no time they were both up in the air. They flew around aimlessly for a while, both of them keeping a keen eye for the snitch. It was a few minutes into the game when an idea suddenly struck Draco. One look at Rose, and he knew she was keeping a close eye on him.

  
He immediately dived towards the ground, pretending to have spotted the snitch, and he could tell she'd taken the bait.  
"Try and keep up with me, Potter!" he taunted over his shoulder.

  
Just as he was about to hit the ground, Draco swerved and turned his broom sharply towards the sky. He heard Rose curse dangerously and saw that she'd managed to brake just in time to avoid crashing into the ground. Draco sniggered at her from a few feet above and she glared weakly at him, her fingers tightening around her broom handle in annoyance.

  
"That wasn't fair!"

  
"I'm a Slytherin - we never play fair," Draco retorted, before he flew off again.

  
They had been flying around the Quidditch Pitch for more than half an hour at that point. Unfortunately, neither of them had managed to catch even a glimpse of the golden snitch, and Draco could tell Rose was beginning to get irritated with the way he had purposely been misleading her for the last fifteen minutes by pretending to have spotted the snitch.

  
After leading her on a wild goose chase around the entire pitch, he would stop mid-air, turn around and smirk at her, before promptly drawling in a smug voice, "My mistake, Potty. It wasn't the snitch, after all, it was just a butterfly."

  
Rose looked like she wanted to punch him in the face.

  
She occasionally tried to ignore him altogether, and instead focus all her attention on searching the grounds for any glint of gold, Draco made it a point to disrupt her concentration by flying past her and crashing into her broom, causing her to squeak and clutch tightly onto her broom from fear of falling to the ground. When she would glare at him, Draco only gave her what knew was an infuriating smirk.

  
"Oh don't worry, Potter. If you fall off your broom, I'll catch you," he teased.

  
"Shut up," she said as her face turned red.

  
She sneered at him before taking off again, pointedly choosing to ignore the rest of his antics as she began circling above the gardens behind the house. She continued doing that for a while before she suddenly dived down towards the ground at full speed.

  
"Ah, damn it!" Draco muttered, knowing she'd spotted the snitch. He didn't waste any time in diving after her.

  
"Keep up with me, Malfoy!" she called to him over her shoulder, mimicking his tone from awhile ago.

  
"Don't get too cocky, Potter!"

  
Draco had two options - one was to play fair and let her rightfully win, and the second was to cheat. But like he'd told her only minutes ago, Slytherins never played fair.

  
Before she could realise what was happening, Draco swerved in from her left and rammed himself against her side, forcing Rose to gasp and veer off course. By the time she'd regained her balance, however, Draco had wrapped his fingers around the snitch.

  
"You cheat!" she yelled at him.

  
Draco grinned, "What are you talking about?"

"You pushed me off my broom!" she sneered, "That's cheating!"

"No, Potter. I did no such thing," he said, "I won fair and square, and now you have to fulfil your promise."

  
"Cheater," she sneered, walking ahead of him as she made her way back to the shed. The sun had started to set and was creating a sort of a halo around her head. She looked angelic, even with that glare on her face. _Especially_ with that glare on her face.

  
"Oh come on, Rosie. There'll be many more chances for you to try and beat me," Draco grinned.

  
"If you call me that again, I'll swear kill you," she threatened.

  
"Trust me, I know from experience that you won't hesitate," Draco joked.

"Don't joke about that!"

  
"Okay," Draco said, holding his hands up in surrender. "It's just a game."

  
"If it's just a game, why did you cheat then?" she snapped.

  
"Because I didn't want to go to the _Whomping Williow_ , of course," Draco answered. "Which reminds me, you're still going to teach me to cast the _Patronus_ , right?"

  
"Why should I?" she asked, "You cheated."

  
"Oh, come on. Please?" Draco asked.

  
"Nope."

  
"Fine," he grumbled, "I admit I cheated. If I hadn't, you would have easily won. Is _that_ enough?"

  
"Admit that I'm a better Seeker than you," she said.

  
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Now that's just a lie," he said.

  
She glared at him again.

  
"Fine - fine. You're a better Seeker," Draco said, and then muttered under his breath, "Not."

  
"What was that you said at the end?"

  
"Nothing."

She glanced at him suspiciously as they put their brooms back in place.

  
"You seem really eager to cast a Patronus," she observed.

  
"Since I saw you cast one in third year, I've always wanted to try it myself," he said. "Extecto Patronum, isn't it? I tried it, but nothing really happened."

  
"I would be surprised if something _had_ happened," she said, "There's a certain method you need to use."

  
"That means you'll teach me, right?" Draco asked hopefully.

  
She narrowed her eyes at him and huffed, "Fine, I'll teach you."

  
"Thank you!" Draco said with a grin, before asking, "Are you going home for Christmas?"

  
"Probably not," she replied, "Hermione's staying back to study for her NEWTs, it's hard to get any studying done at the Burrow. So I'm going to be a good friend and give her company. Why?"

  
"So I can stay back too," Draco answered.

  
"You'll stay back for me?" She asked in surprise.

  
"Well, I was thinking you could teach me to cast the Patronus if I stay back," Draco said with a teasing smirk, "But yeah sure, I'll be staying back for you too."

  
"Of course," she said, her cheeks turning pink, "So, uh, doesn't your mother want you back home to celebrate with your family?"

  
"My father isn't big on festivities, so we don't really celebrate much," Draco told her truthfully, "Besides she knows I'll most definitely have a better time if I stay back here with _you_."

  
Draco knew he'd said the right thing judging by the way her eyes lit up, and a beautiful smile graced her lips.

  
He'd never been so excited about Christmas before.


End file.
